


Lessons for the Future

by Nievelion



Series: Different Tales, Different Lessons [3]
Category: Kung Fu Panda (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Family Fluff, Friendship, Humor, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-27 14:43:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 47,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21393895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nievelion/pseuds/Nievelion
Summary: Life moves on for Tai Lung, as master of the Jade Palace, as a husband, and as a father. The snow leopard endures chef training from Jiao Dalang, and Hilarity Ensues; Tai Lung indulges in a couple of private guilty pleasures, then goes out on a day trip to the village with his adorable twins, where he encounters someone from his past; and he offers parental advice to Po, much to Tigress's consternation.
Relationships: Po/Jia, Tai Lung/Tigress
Series: Different Tales, Different Lessons [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1529432
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6





	1. Tai Can Cook

Morning dawned crisp and cool, as it always did come autumn, more than justifying the thick yak fur cloaks and robes being worn by Tigress and Ping, and even Po was bundled up more than it would seem a fellow of his bulk should be. Of course Tai Lung wasn't, he loved the cold and always had—it was invigorating, exciting, and made him feel incredibly alive—and even if he didn't, he would never admit to any discomfort, infirmity, or suffering. No, his pride and masculine imperative demanded he bear it with great intestinal fortitude, without protest.

So that wasn't why he was unobtrusively trembling whenever he thought no one was looking. That was for a very different reason entirely.

"Well, my boy, it is time." The goose unclasped his wing feathers from over his belly and fluttered them at the panda. "If we don't get a move on, we'll never make it across the Thread of Hope. And it is a long way to Gongmen City even without the bad weather on the way."

"D'you really have to go?" the snow leopard suddenly blurted out, extending both paws toward the Dragon Warrior and his father in turn. "I mean, the Council isn't going anywhere, and they'll be here in the Valley next Winter Festival…"

Po grinned at him amiably. "Aww, big guy, it's really sweet t' know ya care. But ya know how long it's been since Dad got a real vacation? Or me? All that travelin' t' Beijing, an' all around th' empire, that just doesn't cut it. Gettin' t' kick back, relax, take in the sights, have others wait on us for a change, _and _cook for th' Council—yeah, it's gonna be awesome." He slapped Tai Lung on the shoulder and chuckled. "We'll be back before ya know it."

"That…that's not what I'm worried about." He flicked his eyes nervously toward the other person standing at the foot of the Jade Palace steps with them. "You're bluffing. You're bluffing! Right? You're not…_really_ going to leave me alone here with…"

The panda winked and turned away, giving a half-wave over his shoulder as he placed his other paw around Ping, drawing the now richly-garbed noodlemaker against his furry bulk. "Bye now, see ya!" _Wouldn't wanna be ya! _the snow leopard could almost hear being mentally added on. And then the Dragon Warrior and his adopted father were moving across the moon bridge, disappearing into the village streets in the direction of the southern mountains and the rope bridge that would start them on the path to their destination.

Very slowly, struggling every bit of the way, Tai Lung turned back to look at his companions, including the only other one present who like him wasn't garbed for the cold—because, like the snow leopard, his thick Amur fur protected him. "Well, now that that's settled, we'd better get started." Tai Lung winced openly.

Smiling sweetly, Tigress came up on his other side and kissed him softly on the cheek, then patted it. "Good luck, husband." This time, he cringed. _Evil woman, how could she! _

"I thought you were supposed to stand by me, through thick and thin, through every adversity," he protested weakly, accusingly.

His wife crossed her arms and smirked at him knowingly. "And miss the chance to see this? Never. Besides…I do have the cubs to look after. And I know you'll do just fine. Eventually." She paused, then grinned wider. "Assuming you survive."

As she turned away with a very satisfied chuckle and a rather swaggering gait to begin scaling the palace steps, Tai Lung bristled, gritted his teeth, and started counting silently to himself. Finally, when his wife had climbed out of earshot and he felt in control enough to speak, he buried his face in his paw and moaned. "How did I ever let myself get talked into this?"

Beside him, Dalang placed a comradely paw on his shoulder as Po had and replied, his voice warm and sympathetic. "Do you want the short list or the long?"

It had all started after Po's trip to the capital with Tai Lung, after Chen and his court had been so enthusiastic about the panda's cooking, puffing up his pride in his culinary skills all the more and making him begin taking seriously Ping's suggestion that between Dragon Warrior missions (or even _during_ them, to both the snow leopard and Shifu's horror), he should be peddling their restaurant's wares around China. Between the many missions he, the Five, and Tai Lung had carried out, and the year of Crane, Mei Ling, and Jia's travels around the empire, it certainly seemed a good time for Po to indulge in such a thing, if he absolutely had to.

When this suggestion had turned into a two-week vacation to Gongmen City, however, and Po insisted that his adopted father had to come along to properly fashion their shop's homemade but gourmet-quality dishes for the Kung Fu Council (and simply get some well earned time off for the first time in at least ten years), things had rapidly degenerated. Because if both the panda and his father left the Valley, that left Dalang alone in charge of the shop. And while Ping trusted the Amur with such responsibility now, one person couldn't handle the huge amount of patronage the shop received even in one day, let alone two weeks. Dalang would need an assistant.

And somehow, this had led to Tai Lung being nominated for cooking training.

He still didn't know who had been behind that _delightful _suggestion—Po, thanks to memories of his 'experimental' meals during the panda's convalescence after Yunxian, Ping himself as a bit of revenge for the spilled meal during his and Tigress's 'honeymoon' spying, or Dalang for being the recipient of said meal as a new fashion statement.

What he did know was, his wife had made the indisputable point that she was even worse in the kitchen than he was (at least he had learned the basics for when he was on his own on long kung fu campaigns!)…which meant if they ever expected to raise their family in peace and privacy, and not spend all their time in the barracks kitchen or down at Ping's, someone in the household had to learn to cook properly, and he was the only viable candidate…albeit only in comparison.

It hadn't surprised him in the least to find all the others completely in support of the plan. Viper thought it was sweet and romantic, and reminded him this was yet another way Tai Lung could continue to romance the striped feline—since romance didn't end the minute one tied the knot or shared a bed, and cooking for Tigress was a very good example of putting her needs before his own, being there for her, a sacrifice on his part that showed by action and deed that he loved her, honored her, and respected her. These reminders of the serpent's romance advice in the bathhouse were ones the snow leopard could not deny, no matter how much he wanted to.

Mantis and Monkey, of course, just thought the whole notion hilarious, and as long as the master of the Jade Palace didn't burn down the restaurant or strangle everyone's new favorite chef in the Valley, they were more than willing to subject him to Dalang's crash course. Crane simply observed, with gentle reassurance, that most of the great chefs in China were men and he did not find it demeaning or emasculating at all. Of course Mei Ling and Jia seemed to take the opposite view, acting for some obscure reason as if Tai Lung very badly needed to be taken down a few pegs in his pride.

And Shifu, the one person he'd been certain would take his side, had noted that after the Winter Festival he had learned that there was no shame in a good home-cooked meal. Even the fact Dalang had said Tai Lung had to pay for half the ingredients out of his own pocket (which essentially meant the palace coffers) had only made the red panda's eye twitch a few moments before he agreed that Ping's restaurant deserved such recompense. "And the gods know you need the lessons," he'd muttered. "At least this way, I won't have to go all the way down to the village to sample Po or Ping's cuisine. And neither will Tigress or your cubs."

Tai Lung had made it known in no uncertain terms that this was entrapment, pure and simple, as well as that they were bloody traitors, every one of them. But most of them had merely laughed at him, with Shifu and Tigress adding that they considered it more an intervention to spare everyone on the mountain any further suffering coming from his kitchen. So, whether he liked it or not, he was cornered.

In more ways than one, it seemed. For even as he'd been racing madly through his infuriated and frustrated thoughts of what had brought him to this place and time, Tai Lung had been following Dalang through the village streets which, this early in the morning, were already becoming crowded by throngs of shoppers and workers. And as the tiger strode along, he still refused to let the matter drop completely. "Look, big guy, I promised your wife I'd teach you how to cook. So if you don't learn, that'll make us _both_ look bad."

Very slowly, the snow leopard turned and looked at him, eyes narrowed and expression flat. "And just why do you need to be looking good to her? She's married."

Dalang shuddered. "Are you kidding me? You've gotta know by now that the last person whose bad side you wanna get on, other than you, is Master Tigress." Tai Lung had to admit the tiger had him there. But then he had to add, "Anyway, I'm also saying that because of my pride as a chef. Are you _that_ insecure about guys talking about your wife?"

_Wouldn't you be, if you were married to a goddess like that? One you had to fight tooth and nail, almost literally, before she'd even look at you without skinning you, let alone consider becoming your wife?_

But he didn't want to admit such things to Dalang, assuming the tiger didn't already know, so instead he snapped, "Yes, when the fellow in question happens to be one who flirted outrageously with a married woman at a certain honeymoon dinner."

"Are you _still_ on about that?" Dalang growled, aghast. "It's been over a year, buddy…and I already told you, repeatedly, that I was sorry and I was just trying to make it up to her for screwing up her order so many times. Plus I didn't even recognize her at first—you'd be surprised how much difference putting her in a dress makes!—and once I did, well, I thought I'd help keep Po and his main squeeze from noticing anything was up. Who'd suspect she was Master Tigress when she was letting a random noodle-chef hit on her and not tear his lungs out?"

It all sounded reasonable on the surface, but Tai Lung didn't _want_ to be reasonable, not where his wife's honor (and, he had to admit, his own territorialism) was concerned. And all the waffling and flimsy excuses even when added together wasn't exactly convincing. So he growled, low and threatening, under his breath, and gave Dalang the glare he'd perfected years ago whenever someone dared cross his path and deny him his rightful gains and spoils. The glare he'd honed to a razor's edge in the depths of Chorh-Gom and used with great effectiveness on the Anvil of Heaven and even Vachir, though the latter of course had denied it with every blowhard's word and deed.

Dalang wasn't proof against it either. Only a few moments of being confronted by those cold yet paradoxically burning golden eyes, and the Amur winced, turned away, and threw his paws in the air. "Okay, okay, fine. I thought she was hot, the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, and I'm still in my twenties. But I know she's off-limits, it won't happen again, and I'm sorry, all right?" Clenching his fists briefly, the tiger said, "New topic. Or, I guess, old topic. How come you never learned to cook?"

The sincerity in the chef's voice was what convinced Tai Lung to back down, that and his honesty. He could tell Dalang meant his promise, and to admit to the snow leopard's face that he found his wife desirable, even if he was never going to act on it, well… _The cat has quite a pair, no question about that_. But even as he smoothed out his fur, retracted his claws, and let the suspicion and fury leave his eyes, the spotted cat had to shoot Dalang a sardonic look.

"You actually have to ask? I'm a warrior, not a domestic. Even if my life had gone the way I planned it, the thought of having a family never even crossed my mind. The Dragon Warrior was to be above that sort of thing…he'd be out there defending the empire, protecting other people's families, not his own." And, to his chagrin, he'd always believed such a thing to be the woman's province, thanks to Shifu's views. Not to mention the only example he'd ever had of a cook growing up had been a woman…and even if he'd dared risk his father's wrath by asking to learn the trade from her, one with her temperament, attitude, and…language was the last person he'd ever want as his teacher…

Dalang, meanwhile, was the one now giving him a cold, reproachful look, as if he'd read the snow leopard's mind. He supposed his feelings must have been quite visible on his face. "And you're a man, and men don't do women's work. Read you loud and clear, big guy. You sound just like my father."

Tai Lung paused, letting a gaggle of geese and several sheep mill past him at waist-level while he stared in some surprise at his companion; not that he had had many conversations with Dalang—the palace and the kwoon were his life, with very few trips into town, and with Po doing all the cooking on the Jade Mountain there were few reasons to go to Ping's shop—but he never recalled the Amur talking about his family much, or even at all. It had never interested him before, the hired help wasn't exactly high in his frame of reference—_no, be honest, they were beneath your notice_—but now that the subject had come up…

"Er…I'm sorry. Didn't mean to bring up bad memories. This is just an old habit of mine that I really need to learn to break, it seems." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Was he…harsh?"

The tiger paused, too, resting his paws on the railing of the moon bridge they'd stopped on so he could gaze upstream, toward the mist-shrouded mountains ringing the Valley. When he spoke his voice was as distant as those peaks, though not exactly angry or resentful…just a bit sad. "No. Not in the way you mean. It's just…there were certain expectations when you were a Jiao." _That sounds very familiar_.

"Every male in my family was a warrior, in one way or another. Okay, my brother Huang's an apothecary, and the twins are merchants and tailors, but everyone else…even Xiang's a military scholar. It's what happens when you're the son of a great general. So when I told Shen I wanted to be a chef, well…"

Tai Lung chuckled mirthlessly. "Rocks fell and everyone died?"

"Something like that." Dalang snorted, then sighed. "He didn't understand why I didn't want to fight when it's in my blood, or why I didn't want to help the empire. He and most of my brothers thought the same way you do, that cooking was just a necessary thing and something women were in charge of anyway. But…he wanted me to be happy, too. So in the end, he let me go to culinary school. Paid for it and everything."

The snow leopard blinked. "Really? That's quite a turnaround."

Looking back to his befuddled face, the Amur smiled. "Well, that's what happens when you're wrapped around a woman's finger and believe she's your Heaven. Dad always used to say he'd never be the man he is today, or even a loyal son of the Empire, if not for Ming Hua. If he'd ever lost her…"

Shaking aside a pall of gloom, Dalang began leading the way off the bridge again, toward Ping's noodle shop. "Anyway, she's the reason I even got into cooking to begin with, took me in the kitchen and taught me everything she knew when I was a cub. I remember her saying later, when Dad was having one of his disagreements with her about me, that it was all well and good for there to be so many warriors in the family, defending it and the empire so that everyone's hearth and home could be safe; somebody had to be actually taking care of that hearth and home, and not just the womenfolk."

Tai Lung was watching Dalang closely as he spoke, and he could hear the catch in his voice, the admiration tinged with awe, even worship, and he smiled to himself as he decided Jiao Shen wasn't the only one in the family wrapped around Ming Hua's finger. And he didn't blame them; just from what he had heard, the snow leopard was finding her to be a strong-willed, no-nonsense, and wise woman. He didn't know if this came from her upbringing, from being surrounded by so many well-meaning but pugnacious men, or if all female tigers were like that.

What he did know was, she was absolutely right. He had learned it from Tigress, from Viper, from Po, and even from Jia's tales of Wu Xuan and Xu Mei: family was everything. Family was why you fought, why you put yourself in danger, why you died if you had to—to keep them safe, to protect those you loved and ensure they had a future. If he had had more of a family himself, if his early years hadn't been devoted to being spoiled rotten as a kung fu prodigy and if he'd had more than just a doting father and a balmy turtle to care about, he would have learned this lesson then, instead of twenty years later and almost too late.

So, if the family was supposed to be protected, if loved ones justified learning the ways of kung fu, then what was so wrong with being part of that family, working alongside those you loved as you took care of them? Kung fu _was_ supposed to be for defense first, after all…if you weren't supposed to be aggressive, going out to find the enemy and eliminating him before he could cause any harm (Tai Lung had always been a proponent of preemptive strikes, as well as the best defense being a good offense), what did that leave? Spending all his time training obsessively to be ready when he did have to defend his home and love? That was what got him in such trouble in the first place.

He would always do that, of course, it was ingrained into him now, and there was nothing wrong with wanting to be prepared or staying in good health. (Maintaining his physique was still a mark of pride for him, and he couldn't depend on a tortoise shell to do it in his stead any more.) But he needed more, there needed to be something to remind him of his purpose and his place. A way for him to acknowledge, to himself as much as anyone, that he wasn't just a weapon used to preserve the peace…he could also reap the fruits of his labors, enjoy that peace.

That didn't mean, though, that he had to like this particular brand of it, however necessary it was.

Dalang glanced at him, noticed the introspective look on his face, and chuckled. "Sorry about that, didn't mean to go maudlin on you. Anyway, Mom was the one who wanted me to go to culinary school, gave me the idea and everything, and she helped convince Dad to pay for it. I owe it all to her, and every day I thank the gods she took me under her wing like that." He smiled fondly.

"You miss her a great deal, don't you?" Tai Lung couldn't keep the wistfulness out of his voice; despite the emotional upheaval that came with discovering a family he didn't think he'd ever find, and the insanity that had been their attendance of his wedding, he found he missed Jian terribly.

The Amur gave him a pointed look, then smiled. "Of course I do."

"What brought you here then? Couldn't have two great chefs competing under the same roof? Or did Ming Hua 'send you forth to do battle with wok and spoon'?"

Dalang actually laughed, when he'd been afraid the tiger would be offended. "Good one! Well yeah, she did, sort of. I mean, what's the point of learning to make great food if you never share it with anybody outside your family? I had to use what I learned, same as any warrior does, same as you do."

"And the best place to do that was the Valley of Peace?" Tai Lung couldn't keep the skepticism from his voice.

The chef nodded. "Sure. I heard all about what happened here at the last Dong Zhi, just after you all defeated Heian Chao. The food Po made—with a lot of help!—for the Kung Fu Council, and what everyone later had down at Ping's…that told me I could learn things here I never learned at school. And that the people here really understood that perfection is in the heart and the home, not in a recipe book or a musty old set of rules. This was the place to be."

He stopped to push open the door of a building next to them, letting the smell of wood smoke, spices, and grains waft out of the interior, and Tai Lung realized belatedly that they'd reached the back door of the noodle shop. "Speaking of, here's the place we need to be. So, let's get in there and get started, hmm? 'Cause you've got an awfully long way to go, and not a lot of time to do it in."

Tai Lung fought the urge to bury his face in his palm again. He couldn't fight back the low groan.

* * *

He soon discovered that he'd been right to hold such low expectations. For no sooner had they stepped into the quiet stillness of the early morning kitchen then Dalang had turned to a peg beside the doorway, then turned back bearing an apron in both paws. Tying it deftly around the snow leopard's waist, the Amur nodded firmly and stepped back, crossing both arms over his chest.

"Okay then. Now, I know this isn't going to go over very well with you, but it'll be better for us both in the long run if we get all the ground rules laid out from the get-go. So: as long as we're in my kitchen—and it's mine 'til Po and his dad get back—you will refer to me as 'Chef'. Not 'cook', just 'Chef'. Or if you want, 'Chef Dalang'. Either way, you're using it. You're Master in the Jade Palace, I'm Chef here."

Tai Lung started to laugh—the tiger must truly be thin-skinned, or else just very oversensitive about being called a cook. "Surely you're joking!"

Dalang clenched his jaw and narrowed his green eyes, which suddenly looked rather cold. "Note serious face."

The snow leopard was very proud of himself for fighting the urge to step back a pace—but he did swallow, his laughter dying in his throat. "All...right. Cooking is serious business indeed, I see..."

"It is. But you've also gotta respect my authority here. I know what I'm doing, and for now I'm your teacher. How are you going to learn anything from me if you don't acknowledge that?"

Tai Lung sighed. He had the feeling he was going to regret this...but the Amur was right. For the nonce, Dalang was the general and he was just one of his soldiers. And—that was the way it should be, when someone was your superior and instructor. He had to respect that, and him. "Fine...Chef. So, now what?"

"Now, I show you where everything is." He opened a door in the corner and gestured inside. "Pantry—"

"Yes, I remember it quite well. Or did you forget I hid here last year?"

"I don't exactly think you and Master Tigress were going through the inventory, though." Dalang smirked, but before Tai Lung could consider the innuendo in that statement for more than a moment, the tiger was rattling off a list of every ingredient kept stored in the drawers and on the shelves, and the snow leopard was frowning.

He had always been very good at rote memorization—it was part of how he'd mastered the thousand scrolls so quickly since once he'd learned their contents he hadn't had to keep referring back to them, instead merely practicing from memory again and again—but...none of the shelves were labeled, and only a few of the containers were. Either Ping was that scatterbrained...or he hadn't bothered because he and Po "knew where everything was". _This...just got a damned sight more difficult. _

But he wasn't giving up.

The rest of the tour went much more smoothly—he already knew where the ovens were as well as the sink and pump (though there was another outside in the back alley, which was good as he didn't relish repeated treks to the river and back every day), the prepping counter was self-explanatory, and while there were a great deal more pots, pans, and utensils than he'd had any idea existed, he was fairly sure he would learn to tell the difference in short order.

At least, he reflected with relief, there was plenty of room for both him and Dalang to maneuver about the kitchen: in the wake of Po's receiving the mantle of the Dragon Warrior and then proving his worthiness for it, anyone and everyone had wanted to visit the restaurant where the panda had grown up. Between that, Ping's extraordinary cuisine, and a few choice donations from Shifu and the Five, business had been booming for some time, allowing the goose to pay for remodeling and expansion. Ironically, or perhaps fittingly, it had all been carried out by Shen Zhuang.

Trying not to be conscious of the fact the bull had died here—as one who had offered the snow leopard a secondary vocation in life beyond kung fu, Zhuang would have been the first to encourage him in learning this new craft—Tai Lung listened carefully as Dalang gave his first instructions. "Let's see what you can do. Wash your paws, then make me something simple."

He couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes. "Thanks, _Dad_, I never would have known that."

"That's Chef. And you'd be surprised how many people wouldn't think to do that. Just humor me."

Heaving a high sigh, the spotted feline did as he was told under the pump, and only when his thick fur was dry did he return to the cutting board. He considered a moment, then decided on the simplest thing he could think of—fried rice with vegetables. Soon enough he had a pan of the small white grains sizzling over the heat, and with a cocky grin of triumph turned to the cutting board to begin chopping up broccoli, green beans, and peppers.

The reason for his cockiness wasn't his having conquered the rice, hardly a worthy opponent, but because of what he did next: snatching a knife from the drawer and wielding it with a flourish, he proceeded to chop the vegetables in a rapid-fire, vigorous, determined blur of motion. In less than a minute, the board was covered with diced vegetables, ready for frying.

He turned to look at Dalang and was gratified to see the tiger staring in mingled admiration and disbelief, paws spread before him. "D'you really think I couldn't tell one end of a knife from another? I _was_ trained in weapons, you know." He held up a paw to forestall protest, even as he idly noticed he'd nicked one finger, blood welling up slowly. "Including in what makes them different from kitchen knives, thank you. And did you forget speed is essential in kung fu?" _Maybe this won't be so difficult after all. _

Dalang chuckled and shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck, but the look he gave Tai Lung now wasn't just amazed anymore...it was apologetic, even regretful. "No, no I didn't...and that really is impressive, big guy. But...I'm afraid you're going to have to do it again."

"..._what_?"

The Amur came over to the cutting board and scooped up two pawfuls of chopped vegetables. "Look at this. These...they're like the size of chives..." He let the fine pieces sift down like dust. "But these are huge chunks."

"So?"

He looked at Tai Lung as if he were an idiot. "They're all different sizes. So they won't cook evenly. Speed is wonderful, Tai, especially in a fast-paced restaurant like this one, but accuracy is just as important. You're going to have to do it again, slowly and patiently, until you get it right. Then you can speed up." He paused, then smiled lopsidedly. "Just the way you learn kung fu. At least that's how my brothers did it."

_Damn it, he's right_. But even though Dalang was the one in charge, he didn't want to admit this. Gripping the handle of the knife till his knuckles turned white, he snarled, "So I wasted that food for nothing, is that what you're telling me?"

"Hey, hey." The tiger held up his paws soothingly. "No worries, happens to all of us when we start out. You think students at culinary school never make mistakes? Why do you think I wanted you to bring your own ingredients? It's not the end of the world. You just slow down, take your time, as long as it takes."

Tai Lung still glared at him. Waiting twenty years to escape Chorh-Gom—there'd been no choice there; the countless years of backbreaking, grueling work studying and mastering the scrolls, that had come from dedication to reach a goal he'd craved all his life. This? "Easy for you to say! Patience is _not_ one of my virtues."

"You mean you've got some of those?" Immediately the snow leopard brandished the gleaming knife threateningly. "Kidding, just kidding!"

Silently Tai Lung counted to himself, then forced his words out through gritted teeth. "Fine. I'll do it again." He reached for the baskets of fresh vegetables again—but a paw on his wrist stopped him. He was startled by its strength.

"Not yet," Dalang said, smoothly but firmly. "First you have to wash your paws again."

"What?" He stared, dumbfounded. "But I just—"

The Amur took his paw and turned it palm up, revealing the knife wound he'd inadvertently received, crimson now trickling down the side in thick streams, staining his fur. "You're really going to contaminate the food like that? You know how many diseases are carried in blood?"

"I'm as healthy as a horse," Tai Lung retorted.

"Just because you've built up immunities doesn't mean everyone in the Valley has—especially not little old ladies or cubs." Dalang's tone turned hard again, the voice of a determined teacher rather than a stubborn wanker who liked getting off on telling others what to do, though personally Tai Lung didn't see much difference. "Wash it off, get that wound treated and bandaged, and then you'll try again."

Of course, the snow leopard still tried to resist. "Much more of this, and I'll scour my blasted paws bloody!"

"Oh, quit exaggerating," Dalang growled, crossing his arms over his chest. "And anyway, I bet you suffered a hell of a lot worse than raw pawpads mastering the thousand scrolls."

"Yes," he snapped peevishly, "but I actually _wanted_ to master them. I wasn't manipulated into it."

Dalang's jaw jutted challengingly. "You want to be eating Tigress's cooking for the next twenty years?"

He opened his mouth…and then closed it, wincing. With slumped shoulders and a sullen tone he turned back toward the sink. "Where's the soap?"

Only when his paw was washed completely clean, an herbal ointment had been applied to the nick, and a linen bandage securely wound around his finger did Dalang allow him anywhere near the cooking again. By that point, however, the snow leopard was more interested in showing the Amur what he could do with the spices he'd selected. And he was sure the rice must be nearly done by now. Stirring it thoroughly with a wooden spoon, he selected three different spices and began to add them…at first a little, then as he thought about it, quite a bit more.

Once again Dalang grabbed his paw to stop him. "Whoa, slow down, big guy. What're you trying to do, burn the customers' tongues off? That's way too much!"

"Says you." He was obscurely proud of how coolly he managed to say that.

"Says the chef," the tiger corrected him, even as he commandeered the spoon to stir the rice around, examining it with a careful, critical eye. "Ginger _and_ szechuan pepper? I know you're hardcore, but come on..."

"Hasn't it ever crossed your mind that people just might happen to like different versions of the same dish?" That came out more pompously than he'd intended, but he let it stand, if for no other reason than that he rather enjoyed the compliment, backhanded though it had been.

"Yeah, in which case if someone ever comes by who's just dying to have undercooked and overseasoned rice, I'll know just who to have handle the order." Before Tai Lung could do more than glare at him, Dalang scooped up a spoonful of the dish and thrust it at him to taste. "See, your problem is you didn't taste it to see if it was flavored right. You _have_ to check the food as it's cooking."

"So that's why Po does that. And here I thought he was just stealing morsels ahead of time...well, as long as I don't end up flabby like—" He cut off, coughing and trying not to choke on the mouthful of rice. _All right...perhaps I **did** go a bit over-the-top with the seasonings... _But he would never admit that to Dalang. Besides...he had rather hoped the extra spices would cover up any undercooking. Feeling rather disheartened though, as he could think of no way to mitigate the flavor now without having to start over yet again, this time with the rice, he took the spoon back and reached to stir—hoping futilely that if he moved the rice around enough, the spices would somehow disperse.

Before he could blink, the Amur had lunged for the spoon and snatched it out of his hand with all the speed of an Eagle Claw master. Instantly and instinctively, Tai Lung took up a kung fu stance, eyes narrowed suspiciously and muzzle twisted into a snarl. "What in Shang Ti's—do you _mind _?"

Dalang looked openly horrified. "Do you know what you almost did?"

"...No?" Very confused, and beginning to doubt the other feline's sanity (as well as his own for agreeing to these lessons), he kept staring at the striped paw holding the spoon. If Dalang had inherited (and learned) much of his culinary skills from Ming Hua, it seemed he'd also gained at least a little warrior's training from his father and brothers.

"You almost _double-dipped_."

"And that would be...bad."

Dalang smacked his forehead. "_Yes!_ You'd be sharing everything you ever ate, all your sicknesses, everything, with anyone who ate it. I can't believe you don't know this!"

"Well excuse me, I had no idea snow leopard saliva was so venomous!" He was starting to get rather offended.

"Let me put it this way. Would you want anyone to spit in your food?"

"No."

"Well, there you go, that's essentially what you're doing."

_I hate it when he's right. I did mention that, yes? _"Hmphh. Very well, you have a point. It simply never occurred to me, as I've never cooked for anyone other than myself...oh, _damn_..." A horrible, nasty thought wormed its way insidiously into his mind.

"What?"

He truly didn't want to tell the tiger, but he knew if he didn't, it would come out as soon as the Amur got to relate his first day of lessons to the panda. "When Po was badly injured, I was the one who prepared his meals."

"Yeah, I heard about that...wait, you mean you—?" Dalang made a disgusted face, then sighed. "Well, he obviously got better, so no harm done, Tai. Lesson learned and all that." He paused again, then started to grin slowly. "So...you indirectly made out with the Dragon Warrior?"

"Quiet!" That little wrinkle had _not_ crossed his mind at all, he'd only been concerned with whether he'd passed anything on to the panda, but now that the subject had come up he couldn't banish the unwanted images. "Just..._never_ mention that to me again, if you want to live."

"Deal. If..." He pointed to the utensil drawer, rather firmly.

Tai Lung's shoulders slumped again as resignation washed over him. "If I get another spoon, and start over."

"Yup."

The snow leopard tried in vain to determine if there was far too much satisfaction in that reply. But as he went to fetch another spoon, cursing under his breath at the waste of time it was to constantly wash or replace the cooking implements, he couldn't help but find a nagging familiarity about all this... "Gods," he muttered as it dawned on him. "You're as bad as Shifu was..."

* * *

The rest of that day went by in a blur for Tai Lung. Finally, after several more false starts and repeated attempts which left the snow leopard wanting to scream, break every spoon in the kitchen, and tear Dalang's throat out, the tiger pronounced his rice dish 'passable'. But by that point there was next to no time before the restaurant opened, and so the Amur pressed him into service to take care of all the menial tasks, thus leaving Dalang to do all the cooking.

Which meant all through the lunch and dinner rush, he slaved away washing all the dishes until he swore he had prunes for pawpads, when he wasn't fetching ingredients at the chef's harried, barked commands. And when he wasn't doing that, he was pressed into service as an extra waiter, both taking down and delivering orders. On the one paw, the villagers were all used to him by now so no one fled screaming when they saw the former scourge approaching their tables (though there were certainly a number of startled and even amused looks); on the other paw, he became very swiftly confused.

Not with jotting the orders down—thanks to his arduous education and Shifu's own famous lack of patience, he'd learned in his early adolescence the simplified hanzi needed to write shorthand. No, there were simply so many orders to keep track of, the tables were laid out haphazardly, and so many of the geese, sheep, and pigs looked alike to him that he mixed up far too many orders, to the point that he was so mortified and continually flushed red that even the most irate customers took pity on him.

Thankfully, one of the other part-time staff, a friendly and soft-spoken pig waitress named Zi, helped explain the layout of the restaurant for him as well as identified the diehard regular customers, and once he began comparing the noodle shop to a battlefield map it became much easier to find his "targets".

The second day was much like the first, although the extra time he'd taken the previous day whenever there was a lull in attendance had allowed him to practice proper knife use. It hadn't been easy to force himself to move at a slower pace, but once he'd mastered chopping the fruits and vegetables all the same size, he'd found himself well able to cut at a rapid speed again—if not the blur he'd wished to use. Dalang had then given him a few simpler recipes to study...and this was where, to his vindicated pleasure, he began to excel.

Prior to this, he had not known anything of the various dishes available simply because he'd refused to indulge in such a frivolous pursuit. But now that he was choosing to do so, Tai Lung had the same dedication and wherewithal he'd had when mastering the thousand scrolls—if he could traverse the kwoon's deadly obstacle course, and fight entire armies by himself, then he could certainly handle cooking five or six dishes at once and have them all served at the same time. He refused to let this task beat him.

And while it would take time, he knew, to master more complex dishes let alone invent his own, he at least was confident that with practice he could prep the easier dishes for Dalang—as with the scrolls, once he was shown something, he retained it like a sponge.

That was the theory, at least. In general it did hold true...but there were several dishes identical save for one ingredient that he found far too easy to mistake for each other, and in his care not to run afoul of the dreaded "double-dipping", he often forgot to taste what he was cooking altogether. Which meant if he didn't undercook or overcook, he periodically mistook one spice for another—and needless to say, accidentally using white pepper instead of salt, black pepper instead of anise, or something called curry instead of ginger, had both Dalang and the patrons screaming at him, in some cases literally until water could be hurriedly fetched.

Which led to the tiger declaring the snow leopard needed a thorough training of nose and palate. "If you're going to be any kind of chef at all," Dalang lectured him, "you have to be able to recognize which ingredients are in a dish simply by tasting or smelling it. Train your palate like you would your body, you know! Eventually that knowledge'll help you come up with new combinations that just might taste great together, but before you can do that, you've got to know the basics. And that'll keep you from burning more tongues or making anyone sick."

Remembering one poor old ewe that would be confined to her bed for the next several days, even with herbal remedies from Ning Guo, Tai Lung had hastily agreed. The problem was, of course, just how much blasted _time_ it all took. He couldn't overdo it on identifying spices by scent; between his sensitive feline nose and the overpowering odors of some of them, he often needed as much as half an hour to clear his sinuses again. As for tasting, to keep from having his palate completely deadened he had to cleanse it periodically—with water, but also with flat rice cakes.

Now, the spotted feline could readily discern how useful the things were in clearing his taste buds of all this saturation...but rice cakes had never been his favorite in the best of times, and the more he ate, the more sickeningly bland they became. And the more gods-cursed thirsty _he_ became.

Downing another glass of water after his third or fourth hour of taste-testing, he groaned and stared pleadingly at the Amur. "Can we stop training for today, at least? Much more of this, and I'm going to be putting on pounds no matter how hard I train in the kwoon." Morosely he rested his paw on his stomach, which already felt uncomfortably full, and the nasty jibe slipped out before he could stop himself. "Po's palate must be impeccable, now that I think of it..."

Somehow missing the implied insult to the panda's weight and eating habits this time, Dalang only grinned amiably. "That's why his cooking's so delicious, I guarantee it."

Tai Lung sighed. "It is indeed, and so is yours, Chef..." He found he couldn't drop the matter completely, however, seeing as the tiger not only buffed his paw on his white chest fur but rather ostentatiously drew attention to his own lack of poundage, patting his absolutely flat stomach. "That's it, I have to ask. Just where the bloody hell does all that food you taste _go_?" He pointed at Dalang's midsection.

Dalang grinned even wider and winked. "High metabolism, buddy."

The snow leopard scoffed; the last thing he wanted to admit was that someone else could match or surpass himself in that regard. "You wish."

Poking the older cat's own midsection, where the master of the Jade Palace still sported the set of sculpted abdominals he was rightfully proud of, the tiger chuckled. "It's gotta be true, look at you! And we're both big cats."

At that, Tai Lung couldn't help but grin in return. "See, now that I can accept as an explanation."

Dalang smirked. "So, bottom line being, big cats rule?"

"Damn straight." The spotted feline sighed again, glancing away. "In any event...the only way I can prove I've got this is if you let me try again, Dalang. Knowledge is wasted unless it is applied, that was one of the first lessons Shifu ever taught me." He gritted his teeth and then forced the words out. "Po learned kung fu at an incredible rate. If I can't learn to cook as quickly as he learned kung fu, he'll never let me live it down."

"Don't you mean you'd never let yourself live it down?"

"Shut up. Chef."

* * *

The third day started off better, for a number of reasons—not only had it taken next to no time to adapt to the schedule thanks to his usual training regimen, so that he was wide awake and brimming with energy, but he was skilled enough now to help Dalang prep all the ingredients for the dinner rush. And while he still hadn't mastered who received which dishes, or trained his mind well enough to recall every order perfectly, he did at least discover the foolproof path for maneuvering through the tables—and other than one moment when he almost clocked Dalang in the head as he wheeled about with his tray, he was as graceful and agile as a feline could be.

In fact his great strength allowed him to carry far more heavy trays and bowls than Po or even the tiger could, making his size an asset instead of a liability. (And, he had to admit, letting him show off his physique to some of the lady patrons. He was married, but that didn't mean he didn't still enjoy being ogled.) And thanks to a very clever addition he'd had Xiulan sew onto his apron, the snow leopard now possessed a series of pockets wherein he kept numerous spoons of various sizes—letting him always have one on hand with which to taste, but keeping them organized and separate so he'd never accidentally use the same one twice, always ready to stir and taste again as needed. Dalang, who had simply kept a passel of spoons in a case near both the counter and the oven, had admired and commended Tai Lung's creativity—and unless he missed his guess, was actually a bit begrudgingly jealous.

However, while he had mastered chopping vegetables and fruits, as well as various simple rice and tofu dishes, the more complex ones were still eluding him. The harder Dalang pushed him, the more he rankled at having to follow orders instead of give them, and the more the tiger grew frustrated until finally he threw in the towel, literally.

"All right, that's it. There's just too much you aren't getting, Tai. If it isn't the recipes themselves, it's the time factor. Some dishes take longer to cook than others; some _ingredients_ take longer. You have to time them to each other if you want the dish to turn out right. You have to time the dishes to each other, so you can serve them in a timely manner and nothing gets cold. And you just plain have to cook faster than you have been."

"What the bloody hell d'you want from me?" Tai Lung exploded at the tiger. "Cooking is _not_ simple, it's much harder than it looks—you've been to school for it, you damn well should know that. And I've only been at it for _three days_!"

Dalang's eyes flashed, reminding him uncomfortably of Tigress, even as he clearly forced himself to remain calm. "I know, I know. But it's going to get worse before it gets better, if you don't pick this up soon. The lunch and dinner rush only get more crowded as the week goes on. How're you gonna handle it then?"

He shook his head and growled under his breath. "Do you have any idea how many requests I get in a day for the Secret Ingredient Soup? Bare minimum, twenty, and usually it's more like a hundred. But how can I take care of that, if you can't look after the five or six other dishes on the menu that are really popular?"

The snow leopard eyed him speculatively, then the large stewpot that was simmering on the oven and giving off what he still thought were the most delectable aromas the gods ever created. "If it bothers you that much, why don't I take over the soup, and you do all the other—"

Dalang headed that one off at the pass, as he always did whenever Tai Lung brought it up. "_No_. You know I've gotta take care of that one myself."

"Why?" He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, then pounced, figuratively. "Hah! There _is_ a secret ingredient after all! I knew it!" He sidled toward the Amur's work station, peering closely.

A cleaver slammed down on the cutting board, inches away from his soft gray fur. As he recoiled, Dalang smiled at him, the predatory gleam in his eyes and the way he bared his fangs quite at odds with the first seemingly teasing words he spoke. "Wouldn't you like to know? But I'm not at liberty to discuss that, big guy. Even if I was—every chef has his own special recipes. They may not have 'secret' ingredients, but the ingredients they do have are still unique to that chef, and he isn't going to want them bandied about or they're not his anymore, and nobody'll come to his restaurant if they can just get it somewhere else."

Tai Lung gazed at his reflection in the knife, then at the boiling pot, and finally at Dalang again. "So...there is, or there isn't one?"

The Amur smacked his forehead again with his paw; Tai Lung was rather afraid there'd soon be a permanent impression left there. "It doesn't matter. It's the shop's most popular item, the specialty, and if I let you try and learn it, especially if you screw it up, Po will have my hide. If he doesn't, Ping definitely will." He shuddered, which both startled the other feline and made him wary. What could the goose have said or done that could possibly make the large cat so terrified?

"Fine, I get it, take it easy." He held both paws up soothingly. "I'm a feline, can't blame me for being curious. You should know."

Dalang eyed him flatly, pointedly. "And you should know what happens to curious cats. Anyway, we're getting off the subject." He stabbed a finger at his apprentice. "You need to master these dishes. The only way that's gonna happen, and soon, is if you stay after closing time with me tonight for a crash course, and we train until you get it."

"But—" He'd been looking forward to relaxing for a change, and he really needed his sleep.

"No buts! I'm not gonna cut you any slack. This...takes...discipline!"

"But—" He growled threateningly.

"Don't tell me you don't know about discipline. And in this respect, cooking is just like kung fu." The Amur counted off on his fingers. "It requires precision, good timing, attention to detail, and focus. Because one small mistake, one moment of distraction, can ruin a whole dish."

Tai Lung opened his mouth—and then closed it. When he put it that way, it made a great deal of sense. Disheartening and anguish-inducing sense, but sense. Slumping his shoulders, he sighed a third time, rubbed at his temple where he could feel a headache coming on, and then said, "Very well. But may I make one observation?"

"Hey, it's your time. You wanna cut in on any napping you can do before tonight, be my guest."

That last bit sounded so insulting and smug that it only made him more determined to ask the question. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? You like getting to torment me, order me around. This is revenge for what happened that day Tigress, Po, Jia and I were here, isn't it?" He jutted his chin out pugnaciously, daring him to deny it.

Surprisingly, Dalang didn't. "Maybe at first it was. You went to all that trouble, got me flustered and infuriated in my own kitchen, made me waste a bunch of food—which, for future reference, that is _really_ a bad idea, since that's the quickest way to make me lose it!—made me look like an idiot, _and_ got it spilled all over me. While Ping tried to batter me senseless. You're just lucky I didn't get badly burned. And it was all for nothing, because they already knew you were there anyway."

Tai Lung felt like sinking into the floor. He'd always suspected as such, especially with some of the sidelong, very amused looks Jia had given him since that day, but Po had never confirmed it. _I made **myself** look like an idiot, too. For nothing! _

As if he were reading the snow leopard's mind, Dalang smirked at him. "Once I found out what was going on, of course, I thought it was the funniest thing I'd ever seen. Especially the way the baddest, meanest, most fearsome scourge of a warrior this Valley has ever seen...made a complete clown out of himself."

The snow leopard bristled, snarling. "I-I did _no_ such thing!"

Green eyes twinkled with amusement now. "Dude, you stood there in a corner and pretended to be a statue. And you actually thought that was going to work." Before Tai Lung could launch himself at him, Dalang continued, "But that's just it. Once I found out what was going on, once I knew why you were so gung ho about giving Po and his lady a little private time, and prove to your own ball and chain that Jia was good enough, I couldn't care less. In fact I was happy to help. I forgave you a long time ago, big guy."

Slowly the snow leopard's anger deflated, leaving him with intense confusion, puzzlement...and a bit of worry. "So...this is how you..._always_ behave in a kitchen?" _If this is him on a normal day, I'm rather glad he's not vindictive. _

"I don't settle for half-assed work," Dalang said matter-of-factly. "If something is worth doing, it's worth doing well. And to me, making the best food I can, food that's healthy and tastes like it came right from the gods' feast-tables, food that makes my customers happy, is so worth doing."

Relaxing the knots in his striped shoulders, he turned back to the pot and stirred the soup, making sure it hadn't burned or boiled over. "And yeah, this is how I behave when I have a student who's as stubborn as I am. But also one I'm not about to give up on—because I believe in him."

There was no possible way he could respond to that without feeling incredibly guilty, or at least ashamed. So after several long moments of silence, he only crossed over to place a paw on Dalang's shoulder, wordlessly thanking him for the vote of confidence, and then nodded, turning away toward the stairs up to Po's room. "I'll see you tonight, Dalang."

"Sure thing, Tai. Nights after dinner are always pretty dead, so get as much sleep as you can. You're gonna need it." It was the way he said it that worried the snow leopard—not maliciously or cockily, but with resignation, as at an incontrovertible fact.

* * *

And he had a right to be worried, for when he did rise from bed three hours later, he found Dalang had been absolutely right. Worst of all, Shifu and the Five got to be the witnesses to it.

The Amur had decided that, both as the only way to truly test Tai Lung's knowledge and skill as well as his ability to work under pressure, and to keep from wasting food, the snow leopard would have to actually prepare meals for someone, flesh-and-blood people rather than imaginary ones. This would more accurately represent what he'd have to weather at the restaurant, and there'd be someone to actually eat his creations.

By chance or the gods' design, at the same time Dalang had decreed this, the Grand Master and the Five had chosen to visit the restaurant after closing so as to inquire into Tai Lung's progress (or more likely, spy and heckle, the snow leopard bitterly surmised). The tiger had commandeered them at once into serving as stand-in patrons, and all of them—save the reticent Crane and the red panda, who had been rather taken aback at Dalang's domineering attitude—had been eager to accept.

Tai Lung had in fact importuned upon his father to rescue him from his plight... "Shifu, you _have _to get me out of here, I'm going mad!" He'd grabbed the kung fu master by the shoulders and shaken him (gently, of course), hoping he'd looked as haggard as he'd felt.

"Why, whatever is the matter?"

"This isn't training, this is torture!" he'd hissed, hurriedly checking over his shoulder to make sure Dalang was occupied giving the other warriors the details of his imminent demise.

Shifu had looked at him skeptically, eyebrows raised, and spoken in the sort of soothing way one might to a terrified cub. "Don't you think you might be exaggerating a tad?"

The snow leopard had shuddered and whispered harshly. "Being in his kitchen reminds me of _your_ training. In fact it makes me _long_ to be in the kwoon, tearing muscles and breaking bones."

His father had stared at him, eyes wide, and nervously smoothed out his robes. "...Oh my. I...see..."

But by the time the panda had begun to see what he meant, it was too late: Mantis, Monkey, and especially Tigress had insisted, even Viper was in favor (because she believed in his abilities, of course), and as Shifu had lamely admitted, being Grand Master of the Jade Palace gave him no power whatsoever over the Amur and his kitchen. So, he was doomed, his fate sealed.

At least he didn't have to worry about Mei Ling and Jia being there to make his humiliation complete, since the two had gone off for some sisterly bonding time in the nearest town outside the Valley (which he had on good authority would involve a great deal of shopping). But in all other respects, this was not going to go well at all.

It started almost immediately with Monkey, snickering to himself as he took his seat around the large, round table that had been arranged in the center of the courtyard beneath the swaying light and shadow cast by the lanterns strung overhead. "Okay, so you don't just go sittin' on your butt up at the palace all the time, but now you're learnin' to do a womanly thing like cooking? This I gotta see..."

Luckily, before Tai Lung could explode into a whirlwind of violence that would have left the langur curled into a twisted golden corkscrew, Viper hissed at Monkey and reared up in her seat to get right in his face. "Something wrong with being female, Chan?"

"N-no...of course not...but, it's _Tai Lung_..."

"So? I happen to think it's wonderful he's broadening his horizons and doing more than just fighting and killing—or paperwork." The serpent narrowed her eyes, and Monkey gulped. "Besides, I'd love to see you tell someone as manly and drop-dead gorgeous as Dalang that he's doing something only meant for women."

Even as the primate was flicking his eyes toward the serving hatch, where the Amur was indeed watching him with slitted jade orbs of his own, Tigress added her own frosty reply. "Monkey, remember when you told me you loved me, and you wanted to propose marriage, but I said no? This attitude was a big reason why."

"Okay, okay!" Monkey held up his long-fingered hands to ward them away. "Jeez, nobody can take a joke 'round here no more..."

"A joke implies humor," the leader of the Five said testily. "Yours...had _none_."

"Oh, don't worry, buddy," Mantis interjected soothingly, even as he busied himself with unfolding and laying out his napkin. "Being married's overrated. I should know. And it sounds to me like you were damn lucky to escape, so that Spottybutt here could do the honors inste—shutting up now, shutting up now!" The insect was, of course, cringing under a menu as the two women at the table turned their gimlet gazes on him.

Sadly, Tai Lung didn't have long to enjoy this, for as soon as he'd taken the other masters' "orders" and had returned to the kitchen, Dalang was upon him—hovering, watching like a hawk, harshly and critically judging every move he made and every step of the cooking process.

"Bet you thought making dumplings was easy, didn't you?" The tiger circled him relentlessly. "But it's a dough—get the measurements wrong and it's ruined. So learn these!" He rattled the wooden measuring spoons on the cutting board. "Then you have to make the filling, then wrap them—no, it's fold, fold, _tuck_, fold, do you want it all falling out?—then boil them. But de-vein the shrimp first—and if I catch you using your claws to do it, it's paw-washing time again and then your tofu will get overdone."

Tai Lung jerked his paw away from the pile of shrimp as if it had been burned, claws retracting. "Yes, Chef."

A little later: "Tai Lung, this is supposed to be an appetizer, just something to awaken the palate and make them crave the entree all the more. These dumplings are way too big for that, so make them petite."

"Yes, Chef!"

And again: "Those are very well-cooked potstickers, Tai Lung."

"Thank you." He couldn't help puffing out his chest in pride.

Until he heard the next flat words. "Too bad they were supposed to be wontons. Fix it."

Cooking the crab meat wasn't too difficult. Neither was steaming the buns, nor stir-frying the vegetables and tofu (he'd had to learn that for Tigress very early on in their first year of marriage). And the grilled eggplant with ginger sauce and scallions was actually coming along rather well. But then came the fish. Now, as he had stated in the past and proven when he kept his promise to go on mountain excursions with Crane, Tai Lung knew perfectly well how to catch fish, as well as how to filet and otherwise prepare them. The actual cooking, though, left something to be desired.

"This fish is not cooked properly." Dalang shook his head mournfully.

The snow leopard bristled defensively. "Well, I merely need a minute to..."

"You said a minute a minute ago," the tiger said dryly. "I don't want excuses, I want that fish cooked properly!"

About ten minutes later he had another batch prepared. "Fish, ready to go!"

Dalang examined it, turning it over with a fork and wincing. "Wrong, it's undercooked in the middle. _Fix it_!"

Tai Lung began to grumble rather dark things under his breath and tried a third time.

Unsurprisingly, the increasing waspishness of his temper soon led to the opposite problem. "Okay, now you've overcooked it. Concentrate, and don't waste the product!"

Fury and misery mingled as he fought the urge to smash Dalang's head into the wall, instead gripping the edge of the counter until his claws dug out huge furrows and the wood even began to crack and split. He closed his eyes and counted silently to himself. "The kwoon. I need the kwoon. I need those deadly obstacles on their highest setting. Those soothing obstacles..."

As if that wasn't bad enough, serving his father and the Five was almost worse—since if they weren't outright criticizing and complaining about the food or the service, they simply couldn't cease all the commentary on his skills or lack thereof. Some of them, like Viper and Tigress, of course, tried to be fair and diplomatic about it. When he had to use the utmost care and decorum in presenting their meal, laying out the platters of shrimp and stir-fry while naming each vegetable he'd used and inviting them to enjoy their dinner, the two females were all smiles at his etiquette and his elegant bow—though of course Mantis and Monkey had found it all hilarious, and even Shifu had looked torn between approval and amusement.

Still, Viper hadn't been able to outright lie, and in fact from her expression she seemed to be regretting her eagerness to support Tai Lung in this new endeavor. "These dumplings are... well, dense," she admitted, rolling one over with her chopsticks.

"They're heavier than Po," Mantis complained. Crane swatted him with his hat.

And when the time came for them to slice into their fish, Tai Lung couldn't help watching them apprehensively. From the way they had to cut into the meat, and a few choice expressions as they chewed, he felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. "Oh, no," he grumbled, rubbing his temples. "Please don't tell me it's overcooked." Oddly, it wasn't just the fact he'd messed up yet again that bothered him—it was that in doing so, he had let down both Dalang and himself, failed to meet both of their high standards.

"All right, I won't tell you," Tigress said, as politely as she could.

"But I will," Monkey spoke up. _Here he goes_... "How can I put this, Tai...don't know how you did it, but you more than just killed this fish. It's deader than dead."

"Must you be so harsh?" Tai Lung actually did a double-take, while Monkey wriggled his finger in his ear...for that last had come from _Shifu_.

After several stunned moments of silence, the langur finally found his voice again. "Hey, just bein' honest. And since when did you ever coddle any of us in training, let alone him?"

The red panda eyed Monkey askance, then drew himself up to his full diminutive height as he looked at Tai Lung. "Perhaps it has escaped your notice, Monkey, but after everything that has happened, even I have learned my lesson as well. Honesty and bluntness are all well and good, and my training has turned out matchless warriors...but it has also taught all of you, especially my son, to be hard rather than merely strong. That was a mistake; I am trying to rectify it." He paused, then the corner of his mouth twitched. "Besides, he already has a very strict teacher in that kitchen. No need to have him deal with two."

Everyone stared at him, though Tai Lung noticed both Crane and Viper seemed very relieved, even pleased; he himself couldn't believe what he was hearing, but then he supposed if he could change his spots, there might be hope for Shifu as well. Tigress, meanwhile, eyed their adopted father with a sardonic smirk. "Don't you mean you don't want him to have to deal with two of you, Master?"

Shifu winced ruefully, then rubbed at his mustache. "I suppose you could view it that way."

Under his breath, Mantis muttered, "Now _there's_ a scary thought." Tai Lung couldn't help but privately and fervently agree.

If the red panda heard the insect, he made no sign of it, though he did add, albeit reluctantly, "Frankly though, I do agree. This fish is just terrible."

Before Tai Lung could do more than shoot him a hurt look of betrayal, Crane spoke up. "Which is...rather strange, I think. I mean, you did so well on our fishing trips, Tai Lung, and you said you and Shifu used to enjoy doing that, too. So how—?"

The snow leopard scoffed, managing to cut the panda off at the pass. "Perhaps he neglected to mention this, but Shifu was the one to do all the cooking, I just prepared the fish. He didn't want me 'playing with fire'." He chuckled at the irony. "And by the by, all he did was roast them on sticks over our campfires. With no seasoning."

His father frowned. "Well, I admit, I didn't think carrying seasonings was exactly necessary to go fishing, and..."

Tai Lung made his voice flat. "He often burnt them as well."

Shifu crossed his arms severely. "Fine, so fish were not my strong point. That certainly did not stop you from devouring them."

"Tai Lung." The voice was only mildly chiding, but he winced as if the rebuke had been snarled at him. He turned to look at Dalang, drumming his fingers on his striped arms before he counted off one finger, then a second. "One, you should never argue with a customer. Just accept the fact that you didn't cook the dish to their liking, and move on, you can always fix it. And two, I can smell those eggplants burning. Get in the kitchen."

He hunched his shoulders. "Yes, Chef."

Behind him, as he turned to leave the courtyard, he heard his father chuckle softly. "I know it's very wrong of me to say this, after everything that happened in the past... but this is still rather fun to watch."

"That's a terrible thing to say," Viper whispered harshly. "And I had no idea Dalang was going to ride Tai Lung this hard, or else I'd never have—"

Mantis snickered, low and ribald. "Yeah, who would have thought Tai Lung would be the bottom in that relationship?"

From the snarl followed by a loud smack on the table, Tigress had thankfully swatted the insect for that one, but the damage had been done: tail puffing, ears flattened, the snow leopard slunk into the kitchen to the sound of Monkey's hysterical laughter. _That's it. I don't care when, I don't care how: I...will have...my revenge. And the next time I see Oogway, I am so asking him why he had to spare that witless little stick again... _

* * *

The next several nights were unfortunately more of the same. Gradually Tai Lung did show increasing progress in mastering various types of dishes and cooking rules, but the hectic pressure of the days where he had to keep up with the actual orders and the serving at the restaurant ran him ragged...which only made it tougher to learn the grueling lessons after closing. The snide commentary from Monkey and especially Mantis continued at each successive meal, and even the times when he dragged himself up the long stairway to sleep in his cozy little home with Tigress and the cubs couldn't shield him completely from the adverse effects of his training.

Because one night, when he was thirsty and had stumbled, still groggy and half-asleep, into the Jade Palace kitchen to fetch some water, the voice of the insect had suddenly barked out behind him, "I need an order of steamed veggies and crab dumplings, and I need them now!" And before he had even been aware of it, he'd found himself instantly obeying with a startled "Yes, Chef!" It wasn't until he'd heard Mantis's distinctive laugh behind him that he'd realized he'd been had, and only the fact he didn't want to wake up the whole palace had kept him from hurling the pots and utensils forcefully at his tiny tormentor.

Finally, though, Dalang deemed him to have mastered enough of the cooking trade to leave off the nightly lessons. But just when Tai Lung heaved a sigh of relief, the Amur then decided that meant he was ready to serve as the line cook. And while not quite a disaster, it was certainly not a stroll through the Emperor's gardens. In fact it was downright stressful.

Getting the seasoning just right on his sauce, steaming the buns, stirring the boiling vegetables while keeping an eye on his fish, and eventually sending out three platters all timed to each other with great precision was pressure enough. But even when he was doing well, Dalang never let him grow complacent. As he delivered three bowls of soup and noodles, the tiger placed a firm paw on his shoulder. "Tai Lung, that's perfectly cooked."

He beamed. "Thank you!"

Dalang chuckled. "Thank me when we're finished, now perk up. Next order, three potstickers, three wontons, two soups, one bowl of rice and shrimp, hold the soy sauce." Tai Lung grumbled under his breath. _Never satisfied_.

Or, half an hour later: "Tai Lung, the lunch rush is starting. I need six soups, four orders of dumplings and eight tofu specials, and I need them five minutes ago!"

And when the snow leopard dared to suggest that they could perhaps slow the pace a bit, since rushed food was often not quality food, the tiger had launched into a diatribe about how swiftly delivering all the dishes at once to one table meant he could move on to the next order that much more quickly, thus ensuring the customers at the next table wouldn't have to wait long for their food.

"Honestly," Tai Lung scoffed, "could you be any more of a perfectionist?"

"Look who's talking. I still don't see those soups. Ladle, ladle!"

The worst part was, it wasn't even as if he could get after Dalang for giving orders while standing around doing nothing, because he wasn't—he was very much tied up in making the big, complex, expensive dishes which were still beyond the snow leopard. But somehow Tai Lung still thought he got far too much enjoyment out of ordering him around.

And as he improved in his skills, he also wondered if the tiger might not be becoming a tad more jealous. As a prime example, there was the time Dalang suddenly demanded an extra order of fried fish. At the time, not only was the Amur busily handling several orders of tofu, rice, buns, dumplings, and soup (including, of course, the Secret Ingredient Soup), but between the seafood, vegetables, more dumplings, and spicy sauce every one of the burners of Tai Lung's oven was already in use. Gazing down in mingled panic and frustration at the many pots and pans before him, the snow leopard suddenly hit upon a breakthrough so brilliant he cursed himself for not seeing it before—though to be fair, he'd hardly been in the right mindset to attempt it before that day.

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Dalang wasn't watching. Then, taking a deep breath and expelling his worries and stress as best he could, he drove his _chi_ down into the pit of his stomach, gathering it, concentrating upon it—and then, just like that, a ball of fire appeared above his outstretched palm.

Smirking to himself, he sent it wafting down toward the counter beside the oven with a brush of his will, and even as he continued stirring the proper utensils in the various dishes in rapid succession, he kept the fire burning merrily beneath the pan of fish in his left paw, cooking it readily without need for further space on the range and moving it about along with the pan whenever needed. _Now there's something you'll never be able to match, Chef_.

Minutes later, Tai Lung delivered all the orders in a timely, organized manner, sighing in relief at his creative thinking in overcoming that hurdle—and damned proud of himself, too. This only lasted for a good five seconds, though, as Dalang called out the next order. "Tai Lung, I need three salads, an order of steamed buns and two shrimp stir-fries! And by the way, if one of your little fireballs ever falls into the cooking oil, you're going to be saying goodbye to your singed-off fur. So if I ever catch you doing that again, you'll be in dish-washing duty till your paws shrink!"

The clear note of begrudging admiration in the tiger's tone, and the envious expression on his striped face, were almost enough to offset that reprimand. Almost, since ultimately, he knew that Dalang had a very good point, and the last thing he wanted was to accidentally burn down the restaurant. Still...he couldn't help but smirk to himself again a little. _One way or another, I'm going to keep getting this. _

And in the end...after five more backbreaking, stressful, intense days of training...he finally did. The proof was when, not only could he handle all the early morning vegetable prep unsupervised; serve up whatever simple dishes Dalang rattled off for him and make sure they were properly cooked, delivered to the right tables, and equally piping hot; and receive compliments rather than complaints from the patrons, he was also capable of fashioning some of the more complex dishes. Including one the tiger had asked him to reproduce for him, from memory, aided by the palate he'd cultivated and his own penchant for asking Po to make it for him, as it was one of his favorite dishes—shrimp wonton soup.

In a parallel to how this arduous training had begun, it was again early morning, hours before the restaurant opened, when all the prep time was underway. With the waiters and waitresses handling that for now, there was time for him to make the dish...all under Dalang's watchful eye, of course. But as he had so often in his life, the snow leopard tuned that out, focusing exclusively and determinedly on his single task.

The shrimp were de-veined and the dough rolled out for the dumplings with deft ease now, he'd practiced again and again until he was certain he could do it in his sleep. The carrots, green beans, and spring onions were all properly chopped, diced, and simmering in the broth, while the dumplings themselves cooked first in their own pan before being dropped in to add their own flavor to the soup. All was going well, none of the wontons had split or burst...but something seemed missing.

Thinking hard, Tai Lung waited until Dalang turned away to ask Zi something before fetching five bottles from the spice rack. Then, smiling to himself, he began to add some of each to the broth...

When the soup was done, he stood by nervously, waiting for the verdict...watching the tiger remove a wonton to slice it open on a plate so he could sample the stuffing; examine the vegetables; taste the broth, pause, then taste it again. He swallowed hard, his palmpads getting rather clammy with sweat now...

"Well." Dalang turned to him, an absolutely neutral expression on his striped face. "The broth is quite good, I can definitely taste all the ingredients. The wontons are well done and they didn't burst. You blanched the green beans perfectly, they've still got their color and are nice and crisp. Onions too, soft enough to show they're cooked while crunchy enough to keep the flavor." He paused. "About this broth though..."

Tai Lung's heart sank, but he gamely tried to stick to his guns. "Well, it's rather cold today, so I thought a bit of spice..."

"A bit? I thought the idea here was to re-create a dish, not change the recipe." He didn't sound angry though, in fact he was smirking.

"And I thought you told me to be creative when my palate was better trained. So here I am, doing both. Consider it extra credit, Chef." Tai Lung jutted his chin out challengingly.

"Good point." The Amur licked his lips, as if to savor the broth. "And—you were right. It's delicious, Tai. But what made you decide to go with the five spices?"

Slowly he began to relax—he hadn't failed after all!—and as he did so, his tongue loosened. Considerably. "What can I say, some of those lessons Oogway gave me all those years ago finally sank in. It's all about balance. Sweet, sour, pungent, salty, and bitter. Star anise, fennel seed, cinnamon, clove, and szechuan pepper. A measured amount of each, and..."

Dalang suddenly cut him off with an upraised paw. "Wait a minute...you prepared your own five-spice powder? I never taught you that."

"Well, I did my research, Chef. And I practiced in the palace kitchen. It took a lot of rice cakes for my poor palate, I assure you. I never want to see a rice cake again." He felt vaguely offended, but also uneasy. Perhaps he _was_ in trouble?

"Was that to impress me and Po? Or just to show off?"

Nettled now, he crossed his arms. "Pick one."

"Knowing you, likely both." Still Dalang kept his face impassive.

"What do you expect? We big cats have a lot of pride." Tai Lung drummed his fingers on his arms. "Now, did I pass or not?" A beat. "Chef."

The Amur gazed at him, considering. "Well you see, big guy, the reason I asked is because..." He pointed to a bottle on the shelf. "There's already a five-spice mix, all made for you."

Tai Lung stared at this with a different sinking sensation than before—one that swiftly turned to annoyance and anger. "You mean...damnit, it already existed, and I went to all that work for nothing?"

"Not at all." Dalang was finally smiling now, broadly and warmly. "Like you said, it was extra work you did to show you could do it, that you'd learned your lessons. You took initiative to make the dish better, you made it more difficult for yourself in the process—and you still pulled it off. Overall? I believe you're a full fledged chef now."

While Tai Lung was still standing there, open-mouthed, fighting the conflicting feelings of despair and pride, confusion and overjoyed relief, the tiger slapped a paw in a comradely gesture on his shoulder, then turned to the waitstaff who were standing nearby, some beaming and some outright clapping. "So, dig in and celebrate. Because this means you're ready for the kitchen full time."

The snow leopard was hesitant at first, but when Dalang informed him he'd be handling all the soups and the potstickers, both of them would prepare the steamed buns, and the dumplings would be Tai Lung's department, he felt more at ease. And since it was one of the two nights of the week when Ping usually allowed a change-up in the menu with unusual dishes, even ones that weren't local, the tiger allowed his apprentice to choose whatever dishes he wanted to try.

Which was why, after looking at the list of dishes Dalang had learned at culinary school, the snow leopard suggested that they serve _chiu-chao_ dumplings from Guangdong instead of the usual (he did love shrimp and mushrooms, and the garlic and chili oil would give it an extra kick); Shanghai steamed buns, since the rich broth within would be a delicious surprise for the customers; lotus leaf rice with tofu; and for dessert, silky _dou fu fa _with sweet ginger and sweet cream buns—the latter's custard filling one Tai Lung was utterly confident he could handle after Po's teaching and Viper's family recipe.

Looking at his choices, Dalang whistled low, then grinned. "You don't think small, do you, big guy? Well you've gotten really good with the seafood, so neither those dumplings nor the steamed buns should be too hard. Some of those vegetables though, like the peanuts, mushrooms, and water chestnuts, you'd better let me handle, and if you have any trouble with the egg yolks, for Tsao-Chün's sake, call me!" The tiger paused, then smirked wryly at him. "You got a bit unbalanced there, though."

"What do you mean?" He frowned, examining the list again; seafood, vegetables, noodles, soup, bread, desserts, it was all there.

"Well, the thing is, even in cooking there's a Yin and a Yang. Different foods belong to each of the philosophies, and so do the way you prepare them." Dalang shrugged apologetically. "Steaming the buns, boiling the rice, that's Yin; deep-frying the shrimp and stir-frying the other vegetables, that's Yang. But the eggs, ginger, peanuts, garlic, water chestnuts, and chili oil are all Yang. The only Yin foods you've got here are the tofu, mushrooms, rice, and the seafood."

_Of course, what a surprise; once again I fall too far on the Yang side of things. _Crossing his arms, Tai Lung sighed. "What do you expect? I like strong, spicy foods. But are you telling me you balance the Yin and Yang in all the meals here constantly?"

Dalang chuckled. "Touche. I have to cook whatever the customers order, and if they don't want a balance of Yin and Yang in their dishes, that's not my problem. My duty is just to make it taste good." He held up a finger. "_But_, if I'm choosing the menu for them, as you are today, then I do need to keep it balanced."

Even as Tai Lung grumbled to himself, filing the information away but thinking a bit caustically that with as seldom as he'd likely need it in the future, and how much of a Yang person Tigress was, it was more like an ancient history lesson, the Amur spread his paws and smiled. "Don't worry, big guy. We'll just add your soup to the menu, and toss some bean sprouts, bamboo, and watercress in it, problem solved." Dalang tied his apron in place and began to turn back to his work station.

Glancing down, the snow leopard saw that like his own, it now had numerous pockets sewn onto it to separate and categorize utensils. He smiled to himself. _I may be off on some things, but it seems I can still teach a few lessons, too. _"Thank you...Chef."

* * *

The rest of the day went by fairly smoothly after that, not half because for this service his father and the Five were nowhere to be seen—Shifu being busy at the palace watching Hu and Huo while the Five, Mei, and Jia were away on a mission. Viper had expressed disappointment she wouldn't be there to sample the cuisine now that Tai Lung had improved so dramatically, while Mantis, sadist that he was, had complained about not getting to watch him crack under the stress. The snow leopard was simply relieved—knowing they were out fighting enemies, easily able to survive anything thrown at them, and not constantly hovering about watching him and adding to his workload, was far more relaxing for him.

And he knew all of them, even Monkey, would be impressed when they saw him at full skill. Zeng certainly was, when he stopped by to bring the master of the Jade Palace a message scroll to sign for Chen and the Kung Fu Council. Tai Lung couldn't help but frown darkly in annoyance as he read it as quickly as he could—he wanted absolutely no distractions tonight, and clearly even after all this time the masters were still as uptight as ever. _And have staffs up their arses where I'm concerned._ He sighed.

In retrospect he was grateful that Oogway and Shifu had insisted his case was an internal affair, not under the jurisdiction of the Council—otherwise despite Master Thundering Rhino's leniency and belief in the innate goodness of people, Master Croc would have insisted on his execution instead of Chorh-Gom, or at least that the Council attempt to stop him themselves when he later escaped. And while he was still confident he could have defeated them, their skill and determination were enough to give him pause. But it was for this reason, the bad blood and decidedly cool distrust between them, that Shifu had not tried to summon them during Chao's siege of the Valley—that, and the conflict of interest with Vachir—though Tai Lung allowed they could have been damned useful against the Wu Sisters, particularly that newer student of theirs, Storming Ox. And as yet they hadn't quite forgiven him, it seemed…

In any event, while Tai Lung was scribbling his signature, Zeng had smelled the steaming pot of the snow leopard's soup and, despite knowing who had cooked it, expressed interest in a sample, declaring it smelled too good to pass up. And once the messenger goose had actually eaten it, he couldn't stop raving about the unique flavor, or how tender and well-cooked the wontons and vegetables were. He immediately declared he'd be bringing his family to the restaurant before Po and Ping's return, with a strong hope that the recipe would be kept around even after that—and had no issues promising, upon Tai Lung's request, to deliver some to Xiulan and the Weis in some of those heat-retaining cartons of Ping's.

As for the work itself, having finally gotten the hang of the restaurant's routine and pace, as well as mastering a large portion of the finer aspects of cooking, had made things much more smooth for the ex-convict. But that didn't make it any less work. In fact, he discovered that serving in the restaurant during a full dinner rush was about as strenuous a workout as a full session in the kwoon. Tending to all the various dishes, with their specific utensils, running in and out of the pantry to get more ingredients while also making sure not to burn the food, running across the kitchen to deliver the dirty pots and pans to the dishwasher only to grab clean ones and restart the process again, making sure everything cooked at the same time so as to deliver it to Dalang to check and then serve—it didn't leave room for a single second of rest.

But...that was how he liked it. It was no different than the way he had always approached his martial arts training. Thinking of things on the fly, always being attentive to his surroundings and reacting accordingly, never panicking, quickly fixing any mistake he might have made—it was exactly the same for both arts. If he had taken on invading armies for hours with no rest, then the kitchen was just another battlefield he would conquer. _No wonder Po was such a natural at kung fu—all right, he still needed food as an incentive, but the lesson, the discipline, was always there. It just needed to be drawn out and aimed in the right direction. Why did I never see it this way before? _

At last, dinner was over, the staff had been sent home, and the kitchen had been properly cleaned to Dalang's exacting specifications. He and the Amur sat down together afterward, snacking on leftovers, sipping tea, and generally having a more genial time with each other than they'd had at any point previously. "So...what d'you think?"

The tiger chewed thoughtfully on the scallops and rice inside a lotus leaf. "Well...you burned your oil once, overcooked some of the rice and a few vegetables, and undercooked some shrimp and dumplings. But all of them you fixed in a timely manner. I'd say you did great, Tai."

"Hah!" He couldn't help himself; grinning hugely, he slapped a paw down on the counter in triumph. "Monkey and Mantis, eat your hearts out!"

Dalang chuckled ruefully and shook his head. "After the way they were treating you, they deserve that. And more, really. You got any plans for revenge?" He grinned cagily.

Tai Lung smirked and nodded slowly. "Oh yes...as soon as they get back from their mission, I'll serve them up my new soup—how can they say no, when everyone else seems to adore it? But I'll add _just_ a few extra doses of szechuan pepper, perhaps. Enough so its kick is as hard as the ones Tigress gives when she's angry." He couldn't keep the smug note out of his voice.

The Amur choked on his tea, and as soon as his throat was clear he laughed uproariously. "Perfect, big guy. They'll never know what hit 'em...but man, can she really kick that hard?"

The spotted feline smiled to himself; he still enjoyed bragging about himself now and then—all right, fairly often—but he enjoyed bragging about his wife even more. An incredible fighter...and the best thing that had ever happened to him. "Did they ever tell you how I took down an entire building with one kick when I was fighting Po for the Dragon Scroll?"

"Yeah, I heard about that. Pretty damn impressive. She can do that, too, then?"

"Actually," he drawled casually, "she can kick harder than me."

Dalang stared at him, a wonton dangling forgotten from his chopsticks. "You're joking."

"Look a little too closely at her backside and you'll find out."

The moment the words left his mouth, he knew he'd made a mistake. Indeed, Dalang was already smirking. "So you're inviting me to ogle your wife now? Is your brother De rubbing off on you?"

_How did he bloody know—oh. _For he had just recalled that during his family's visit to the Valley for the wedding, De had frequented Ping's restaurant rather regularly. But as Mantis was fond of saying, that just raised even more questions...such as just what his brother had done to let Dalang know what a raunchy feline he was. _No. No, I do not want to know, I am never going to ask, and so help me I will find a way to scrub the whole blasted concept, and all its imagery, out of my mind, if it's the last thing I do! _

Sidestepping the issue, he narrowed his eyes to slits above his tea cup. "I can slip more spices in your portion, too, you know."

Dalang winked. "Bring it, snowman. I have plenty of endurance."

Tai Lung bristled. "I can swallow just as much as you can."

"That sounds like a challenge. Care to put that mouth to better use?"

"Bastard. You're on!"

Which led to two of the most fiery hours Tai Lung had ever experienced. Both of them were so determined to test their stamina, prove themselves the bigger man, and come out on top that neither would relent, exchanging ever more burning heat with each gulp of sauce so that at times they were practically roaring from the intensity. By the time they had ended both he and the Amur were literally collapsed on the counter, panting and sweating, and no matter how much milk they drank he had a feeling their tongues would never be the same. And perhaps a few other body parts, too.

At least, though, it had been a draw. Equaling was just as good as winning.

When both of them had recovered (and spent still more time laughing wildly at the inane contest) and switched to a cool, minty tea to wash the last of the harsh flavors away, Tai Lung snickered. "You realize, of course, that if my wife or any of the lovely ladies of our acquaintance knew we were testing our masculinity like that, we'd never hear the end of it?"

"Well then, we won't tell them, will we?" Dalang lifted his cup to clink it against his apprentice's.

"Good boy." He took another sip of his tea, then made a face as it had gone cold. He started to get up to fetch more from the kettle still on the oven, then paused and smiled. "D'you mind if I heat the tea my way, Chef?"

Dalang chuckled. "Sure, why not? No oil here now. Plus, it's not every day you see someone make fire right out of their hands."

Tai Lung smirked as he did precisely that, summoning up a small fireball to warm his cup until it steamed, then banishing it. "If you ever run out of firewood, you know who to call."

"Hey, big guy, we never run out of firewood. As the chef, I'm supposed to make sure we're fully stocked for a full service."

He rolled his eyes and groaned. "My goodness, man, I know you love what you do, but we're done with dinner service, so lighten up a little."

Green eyes twinkled, suggesting that perhaps their owner hadn't been quite as serious as he'd been pretending to be, but then Dalang sighed. "Okay maybe I do need to, at that. But you can't deny that me being so hard on you is what helped you master cooking, and progress so fast, too." He paused and smiled. "And even if you did give me a few headaches during the whole thing, I've got to admit...now I'd trust you in my kitchen any day."

Despite everything, Tai Lung was truly touched by the sentiment, but he'd never admit such a thing aloud, even now. Besides, the tiger had teased him relentlessly, so it behooved him to return it in kind—and he'd left himself wide open on this one. "By the gods, man, could you be any more maudlin?"

Dalang flushed deeply, but instead of laughing or growling, he only looked deeply hurt. Realizing his mistake, the snow leopard swiftly tried to cover for it. "Er...well, I mean, fine. You put me through hell, a bloody lot of it, enough I kept expecting one of the _yaoguai _to show up—"

"Making me feel real good there, buddy. I get it, I busted your chops. And?"

"_But_, when all is said and done, you were right to do it. And I guess I can see now why Po enjoys cooking for us so much. After busting my arse in this kitchen all day, it's worth it to see the smiles of those eating my meals, just enjoying it, all the hard work that went into what I put on that plate for them."

The tiger gave him a small smile. "Now who sounds corny?"

"So? I'm in good company then, the panda's said that, too." He took a sip of his tea, inhaled the steam, and then remarked, "And anyway, if you ever tell anyone I said that, I'll feed you your spleen. Properly roasted and seasoned, of course."

"Gotcha." Dalang leaned back in his chair, looking a bit wary, even pale, but then he shook his head and smiled again. "Looks like Jia was wrong about you after all."

Quizzically he raised an eyebrow, even as a dark suspicion entered his mind. "Jia? What's she got to do with this?"

The Amur raised his eyes to the ceiling as he clasped his paws behind his head. "She was the one who suggested you be my apprentice."

"_I knew it! _" He slammed his fist down on the table. Ever since that honeymoon dinner, when he'd overheard the ex-Wu Sister speak so glowingly of the war fan and seemingly determined to teach him that such a weapon wasn't effeminate at all, he'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Except it hadn't. But now, if it hadn't been Po, Ping, or Dalang himself to arrange his newest torture, it made damned good sense that it would have been the former assassin.

Dalang meanwhile looked apologetic, yet he was still chuckling softly. "Yeah, she seemed to think it'd be pretty funny, subjecting you to that. Said you needed to be taught another lesson in humility." Even as the snow leopard growled under his breath, chest heaving and shoulders hulking, the tiger held up his paws. "Don't worry, I stood up for you, big guy. Said it wasn't right for her to do that to you." He paused. "Since, you know, the idea was to feed Ping's customers, not poison them."

"Thanks awfully," he growled between gritted teeth.

"Don't mention it. But really...Po was in your corner, too. Said you really needed to learn, for the sake of Tigress and your cubs, and because you were pretty terrible before, but he believed you could do it. That if you learned, you'd get an appreciation for how difficult it is, but also how satisfying. And then you'd master it easily, just like everything else you've learned."

Tai Lung's anger deflated. _That sounds like the panda, all right. _In spite of himself, and in spite of the needling but sadly true insults toward his once-horrible cooking, he felt an upwelling surge of affection for Po.

"Anyway," Dalang went on, "I ended up saying yes because even if you underperformed, I was pretty sure I could run the restaurant alone. I was confident though that I could whip you into shape." He smiled. "And I was right. I'm glad you've come so far, Tai Lung, and like I said, I'd have you by my side in the kitchen any day."

There was nothing he could say to that. Except, after a disgruntled grunt, "Well, thank you very much, Dal... Chef. For everything."

The tiger took another drink of his tea, then added, that twinkle back in his eye, "So, want to come work every once in a while, then?"

"Not on your life." As Dalang smirked at his instant answer, he went on. "Don't get me wrong, I appreciate all you've taught me, it'll make things so much easier at home when Tigress is away, and it means I don't have to depend on Po all the time. But there's only so much a man can take, and after everything I've been through I think I deserve to forego a little more agony. Especially when I have a choice. I can do it every once in a while, like my carpentry...and of course I'll do it for my family. But beyond that..." He shrugged. "Besides, I do still have kung fu training to do, as well as all my other duties as master of the Jade Palace."

Dalang nodded slowly, and instead of looking offended seemed understanding, even respectful. "Good points, all. Well, you know you can come back any time you like. For now though, piece of advice? Tomorrow's your day off, and the Five should be getting back to the Valley."

"And Shifu took pity on me, he'll be helping with all the tasks around the palace so I can rest up." Tai Lung's tone was wry.

"So," the Amur continued, "you stay at the palace, and cook your wife her favorite dishes. And time it so she can see you midway through cooking when she comes in after kung fu training. Because you know even after that trip, she's going to go right for the training hall." He winked suggestively. "I've learned that few things are more appreciated by a woman than watching her man slave in the kitchen to cook her what she likes most."

He hated to admit it, but that was very good advice, especially where Tigress was concerned. "I'll definitely, strongly consider that. Again, thank you."

Draining the last of his drink, Dalang took his cup to the sink to be washed. Over his shoulder, he added, "You're welcome. And who knows, maybe now that you've learned as much as you have, you can teach her, too."

A long, uneasy silence settled over the kitchen as they both considered that prospect, both the leader of the Five's current skill level and what the experience of teaching her cooking would be like. Tai Lung in particular was remembering what Po and Shifu had told him, after his return from Qinghai, about Tigress's attempts to learn from the Dragon Warrior.

"Jia suggest that, too, did she?"

"Yup. Said something about weathering a storm."

"She's absolutely right. Still...she'll have to learn sometime, there will be times when I'm the one away on missions, and she can't always be going to Po or you."

"Good luck with that."

"What's life without a little pain, eh? Life _is_ pain, anyone who tells you differently is selling something."

"Keep telling yourself that, big guy."

"Right."

The kitchen was very quiet for the rest of the night after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The brief reference to Tai Lung's only cooking role model growing up being a woman with an attitude and language problem is Marie's Lin from "Blue Plate Special" and ["From Scratch"](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6380827/1/From-Scratch) again. And aside from this whole vignette being built around Dalang (Luna was only too happy to let me go wild with him, so don't worry), the background I gave my AU Jiao Clan also appears in her Chapter 17 of "Soaring Dragon". That would be because we basically worked out together what the Jiao boys would have been if their lives had gone differently. I wanted to reference that here since in my world their lives did go differently, thanks to Ming Hua living—talk about For Want of a Nail—but I had no idea Luna was going to include it, too. Great minds and all that. If you're curious, General Shen of my timeline is somewhat inspired by Captain Shang's father in _Mulan_ (yes basing Shen off of another man with a son named Shang was deliberate on my part).
> 
> On a related note, some may wonder why I bothered to go into so much detail about Tai Lung learning to cook when Luna already had him learn in "Present". The answer is twofold: first, while she did show flashes of his training and learning, she never really delved into it in great detail, only showing bits of it in between everything else. And rightly so, as there were far more important plot elements to deal with. So you can consider my version of it to be the extended version of "Present" if you like, since the bit where Dalang 'taught' Tai how to use a spoon was my starting point for much of what I wrote here. Second reason? It was just too funny to pass up, especially as a bit of revenge for the poor Amur.
> 
> The references to Gongmen City and the masters of the Kung Fu Council were included not only to acknowledge the existence of KFP2 but because a) there is so much amazing, cool, awesome material in that movie I thought it was a shame to leave it out just because it and my AU are almost completely incompatible, and it turned out I could weave it in without having to completely render my story invalid, and b) KFP2 never acknowledged why it was, if these other masters existed, none of them were involved either when Tai Lung went on his rampage or later when he escaped. I haven't completely explained their absence, that will be covered during one of the vignettes with Crane, Mei, and Jia, but for now I think I offered a pretty good explanation for it, and also for why they weren't summoned during Vachir/Chao's siege of the Valley.


	2. It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

In the early morning light spilling in through the bamboo shades of his bedroom window, Tai Lung reached the bottom of the page he was reading and paused to look up—contentedly, yet also furtively. He was, of course, still quite alone in his room, and enjoying it immensely. For while his score of years incarcerated in Chorh-Gom had left him disturbed by silence and with an almost habitual disquiet—he would not call it terror, whether reasonable or not—at being isolated and abandoned, there was still something to be said for having private time to yourself. Especially with how otherwise noisy, crowded, overwhelmed, and complicated his life had become.

Not that he didn't appreciate and love his wife and children, his adopted father, and his brother warrior Po, or that he didn't have fond feelings for Viper, Crane, Jia, and Mei Ling (when she was in the Valley)—even Mantis and Monkey could be endured most of the time and had their good points. But sometimes the joking and ribbing, the endless pranks, the constant stream of visitors to the Jade Palace, the rousing cries and pounding blows of kung fu training including from all the new students, and especially the wild and rambunctious nature of his cubs could become…a little too much to bear.

_Or to put it another way, it used to be just myself, Shifu and Oogway, with the occasional messenger or visitor. Now I'm exhausted just counting everyone, let alone keeping up with them all! _

So that was why, today, for a few hours at least, he had arranged for some peace and quiet. Shifu was in charge of the Jade Palace and the training classes for the nonce, while Po was assisting his father at the noodle restaurant. Tigress was overseeing the Five's activities in the kwoon, as well as watching Hu and Huo—who were surely in turn watching the dizzying array of punches, kicks, leaps, and somersaults performed by the warriors with the kind of awe, excitement, and inspired imitation that only children…especially those with the kind of kung fu heritage in their blood as they had…could embrace. With everyone out of the way, the snow leopard was neatly tucked into the warm sheets of his bed, a plate of honey-glazed almonds and dates and a still steaming pot of oolong within easy reach.

The perfect companions this cool spring day, while he curled up with…a romance novel.

He lidded his eyes briefly. Yes, the former scourge of the Valley, feared and hated throughout the empire, the hero who had fallen from grace to become a vicious monster, had, very much against his will, adopted the guiltiest and most unbelievable of pleasures.

It had all started, of course, back during Heian Chao's siege, before Vachir's message had been delivered, when Tai Lung had been religiously following Viper's advice on how to woo and impress Tigress. The serpent had pointed out, reasonably and much to his chagrin, that even though the leader of the Five was nothing like the women in her favorite stories, her novel collection did contain a wide range of ideas for romancing and charming the fairer sex—and just as importantly, provided many object lessons and examples on how women should be treated with decency, honor, and respect.

At least, that had been her excuse; personally, after coming to know Tigress, Mei Ling, and even Jia, the spotted feline had rather quickly seen that however much his heart ached to keep his beloved safe from harm, and how seemingly laudable such an attitude was on the surface, there was nothing truly admirable or worthy of imitation in the sort of fawning overprotectiveness and patronizing gallantry to be found in these books. Tigress was hardly a delicate heirloom in danger of breaking, nor did she need anyone coming to her defense and robbing her of the chance to protect herself.

Still…he'd had to admit that there was nothing wrong with letting the target of his affections know he _would_ be there to rescue her, _if_ she needed and asked for it, just as he would allow her or Po—grudgingly—to come to his aid if he were in dire straits, and with gratitude. And these stories did nevertheless provide a wealth of examples on how to convince a woman you were sincere in your pursuit of her, words and gestures and deeds that could show true devotion and passion, things which he'd sorely needed to learn since he hadn't had a romantic bone in his body.

Naturally, once events had outpaced him and there'd been much more pressing matters to consider—_yes, what a bloody marvelous understatement there, calling fighting zombies, being put on trial and nearly executed, and almost losing your life multiple times something like **that**_—he'd set the novels aside. But after the defeat of Chao and his wedding, after life had settled into a semblance of normal routine at the palace, Tai Lung had found his paws creeping back to them. Partly because of Viper's insistence that although he had won Tigress, romancing her and making her love him all over again would be a lifelong pursuit he could never become complacent about.

Mostly though it was because he'd discovered, to his annoyance and even a touch of despair, that he was beginning to like them. Corny and sappy as most of them were, he couldn't deny that a number of them contained surprisingly exciting adventures, genuine love matches…and yes, even certain arousing scenes that managed to be successful. Which in turn made him wonder, idly, if anyone might ever write the tale of how he and Tigress, and later Po and Jia, had become couples—because if he did say so himself, those would make a fine pair of damned good romance novels.

_If written by an author with actual talent, of course_. He shuddered as he recalled that scroll he and the others had found at that book stall in Shaanxi which had depicted the combat between Tai Lung and the Furious Five, as well as his later battle with the Dragon Warrior. _Whoever paid that person to write that was truly robbed. _

He further wondered if perhaps he could ask the Emperor, the next time they met, if he knew of any skillful writers, perhaps in his court. Chen would surely wish their stories told far and wide, and told properly. He even had half a mind to pay someone to write them himself—completely honest and open, as the snow leopard's flaws and shames needed to be aired as examples of paths to avoid, but otherwise suitably couched and embellished here and there...

Taking a sip of tea, as much to brace himself for what was to come as to moisten a conspicuously dry throat, he turned the page at last and began to read again. The tale was a particularly melodramatic one, of course: a nobleman by the name of Fa Dewei, a snow leopard with great wealth and influence both political and military in Yunnan province, was highly respected and honored throughout the region. But behind his façade of suave, amiable generosity, the man was utterly depraved, lecherous, and cruel.

He had set his disgusting, wicked sights on one of his innocent maids, a soft-spoken and sweet-tempered snow leopardess named Li-Mei. Unbeknownst to him, however, she already had a lover, one who was far more chivalrous, honorable, and fiercely devoted than he could ever be, one who was willing to stand up to the noble for the sake of the maid's virtue as well as the people of the province—his own warrior son, Cong-Min.

And as the two lovers plotted their escape and victory, then spent as many fleeting and romantic moments together as they could, Tai Lung found himself reading their words aloud, even using different voices as he had when reading _The Romance of the Three Kingdoms_ to Tigress…

"_Come with me," Cong-Min whispered insistently, desperately. His eyes were like windows onto a tempestuous sea, churning gray storm clouds and endless deep blue waters that threatened to rise up, battering away his father's evil rule and despicable seduction the way a typhoon would upon the Yellow Sea. "Let us flee, leave this place, far beyond his reach! My men are loyal to me, not my father, they will never pursue us. We can begin again elsewhere—get married, start a family…"_

"_No!" Li-Mei turned away from him, fighting back the limpid tears that welled up like perfectly pristine pearls at the corners of her imploring eyes. "Whatever he is, whatever he has done…he has been good to my family, given them much honor by courting me, comforts and riches and security. All of that would be taken away, were I to spurn him and run away. He would leave them poor and destitute, he would take them and torture them—our honor would be ruined! _

"_And what of the people? If we do not stay, if you do not continue to work against your father, they will have no champion, no hero or support. Everyone in Yunnan will suffer, even die, for the sake of our love." A courage he had never known, a strength he had only suspected was there, suddenly burned in those eyes, thickened that dulcet voice. "It is not worth such a price."_

_The burly snow leopard felt his love for her flame all the hotter, as if he were the dragon stealing Heaven's Tear from her pure, selfless soul where it resided. He took her in his brawny arms and clasped her close, held her to his sculpted, softly-furred pectorals as if he could draw her within, join her with the warrior's heart that beat only and ever for her. "O my love…is it any wonder that I madly adore you? You are more heroic than a thousand kung fu warriors, more loyal than the Son of Heaven's bodyguards, and you inspire more wisdom and truth than the greatest of sages. Yes…yes, I will stay. _

"_But then, if we are to be together, and to cease the oppression of the people, we must fight. I must rally my men, plan a daring coup against him…perhaps even engineer a public confession, so that all, commoner and noble alike, will know him for what he truly is and rise up against him!" He cupped her delicate face in his callused paws, brushed his thumbpads against the dark fur that flowed like ink from the meeting of eyes and nose. "And you must be taken to safety…he will not have you…"_

"_But…but Lord Fa…" She swallowed against the fear that clutched at her throat, her womanly bosom heaving like the snow-capped Himalayas, prepared to divest itself of its wintry shawl to stand bare and defiant before the eyes of the world. Though he knew he should not, he longed to caress those curves, cradle them, bring them to peaked prominence as she never failed to do for him. "He does not know! What will he do, what will your father say, when he learns of this, the utmost betrayal, of household servant and closest kin…?"_

_He would reassure her, he would tell her that though the tyrant ranted and railed, it would all be to no avail. But first, his male pride would not be denied, their love must be sated, consummated. As he pressed his burgeoning passion against her, he brought her muzzle to his, their love conjoining, her honeyed lips meeting his dewy, opiate ones. And then—_

A voice suddenly interrupted him from the doorway. "What he would say is, what in the name of the Jade Emperor are you doing reading such a thing? I thought you were doing so only to get hints on romancing Tigress. That you couldn't stand them. Is there something you're not telling me, son?"

"_RRRAWWRRRGGHH! _" The book flew out of his paws as they jerked over his head, and he leaped—literally leaped—several feet above his bed. By the time he landed again and had swiftly yanked his covers up to conceal any incriminating evidence, his heart was still racing thunderously…and a vicious, snarling growl resonated in his chest while his visitor finished speaking as though nothing had happened. "Do…you…bloody…_mind _? Privacy? Knocking? Surely some of this is sounding familiar?"

It was, of course, Master Shifu—standing in the doorway, ears perked, one eyebrow raised, hands tucked in his sleeves, and looking far too pleased with himself for Tai Lung's liking. The minute he spotted him, the snow leopard couldn't help gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut. He didn't know how the red panda managed it, even after all these years, but in a very unfair circumstance, he was not only able to detect the presence of others no matter how quiet and stealthy they were (those _damnable_ ears of his!), he in turn could invariably appear out of nowhere and catch anyone as if they'd fallen asleep upright, or had their own ears stuffed with wool.

Sometimes it had almost seemed as if he'd vanished from one place and rematerialized somewhere else. _Honestly, I try to ignore Shifu. _Mentally he envisioned raising his paw and putting it an inch from his face. _But he's always right **there**! _

Before he could berate his father further, the Grand Master strode forward and shook his head. From his woeful expression, he seemed almost disappointed. "Of all people, I would never have imagined you would start growing soft."

Instantly, Tai Lung was bristling and defensive, struggling to hold back his ire. "Perhaps, being such a harsh, slave-driving battle-axe, this concept was lost on you, but it's called 'taking a break'! You should try it sometime, it's actually quite healthy and rather invigorating."

Oddly, rather than reacting in kind, Shifu merely raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And just how can lazing about be healthy? I may have been too strict in some of my teachings, and you became too much of a perfectionist as a result, but that doesn't mean I want to see you throw aside all of my lessons." The corner of his mouth twitched briefly. "And I would think you'd wish to avoid gaining a little too much around the middle. Or is that how you planned to be more like the Dragon Warrior?"

The snow leopard's jaw dropped at the audacity of that comparison, and its implications. _I am **not** getting fat! _"Well excuse me if this time around I wished to avoid all the broken bones, torn ligaments, and bruised muscles your training gave me! And I meant healthy for my sanity, old man. I have it far more difficult than you ever did!"

Shifu crossed his arms, snorting. "It's going to be like that, is it? I think you are confusing me with Master Oogway. Just because _he_ preferred to spend all his time in meditating on the mysteries of the universe and rarely taking any active role doesn't mean I do."

Gripping the bedsheets in both paws, Tai Lung leaned toward his father, jaw jutting out fiercely. "I have every single duty you ever had, running the palace, training all the students..."

"Any time there is a major threat to the empire, _I _have to be the one summoned to deal with it..."

"You? All you do is sit on your arse all day, playing mahjong with Ping!" He snorted. "Meanwhile, I've got the whole bloody beginner's class every time there's a festival to cook for, or Po wants to shack up with Jia, or the precious tots decide they want the badass Tai Lung who stopped Heian Chao as their teacher instead of the Dragon Warrior." All right, that last was actually rather heartening, even a mark of pride for him, but when added to all the rest...

"That is _not_ all I do!" the red panda retorted, now leaning forward to shove his whiskered face right into his son's. "In case you had forgotten, I have to deal with the Emperor and his nobles whenever they visit the Valley or demand my presence in the capital, _and_ the Kung Fu Council!"

Tai Lung sneered elegantly. "Which is how often? Anyway, Chen's demands and Ox's temper have nothing on Chuluun."

Vachir's son was a diligent student, respectful of his master, and obedient to the point of awed admiration thanks to the debt he felt he owed the snow leopard for saving his father from the darkness, but that didn't stop the rhino youth from insisting on harder training to make even Tai Lung's mouth go a bit dry. And while his own experiences with controlling inner rage were a godsend in teaching Chuluun how to maintain calm and honor, sometimes he'd had to appeal to Po to defuse a tense session or two.

_Someday, he's going to give Thundering Rhino a run for his money_. The thought was tinged with pride...and trepidation.

Shifu, meanwhile, had paused with his mouth open, then closed it with a snap. "You have a point. But I do also have to oversee the nearby towns and villages, not just the Valley proper." He narrowed his eyes. "And the palace, and its Master."

"That's a laugh!" And he did laugh, too, sharp and barking. "Sounds to me like you're just making up duties for the Grand Master to do. And why is it, then, that nothing ever gets accomplished around here without me, Tigress, or Po stepping in?"

"What good is it being the Grand Master if I give orders nobody ever obeys?" his father equivocated. Again, where he expected the red panda to be infuriated and offended, he sounded...rather amused.

"Aren't you supposed to be retired, anyway?" Tai Lung asked suspiciously, sitting back to lean against the headboard. Not to mention, after his track record with Tai Lung, Tigress, and the rest of the Five, everyone had agreed the more Shifu stayed out of palace affairs, the better.

"A master's work is never done, my son," Shifu intoned. "Besides, I'm a grandfather now, it's my job to meddle." _At least you admit it. _"However, if you truly wish me to be less involved, so you have even _more_ to do..." He made as if to leave the room.

"_No! _" Too swiftly to be avoided, he snagged his father by the back of his robes and dragged him back. He hoped his voice didn't sound too panicked, but was afraid it did. "Certainly not, no need to go as low as that, Father." He cleared his throat, tried to adopt a more conciliatory expression, a more mollified tone. "Ah, my point was, with all those duties, the many students I have to train, _and_ my family, every once in a while I do need some peaceful, relaxing time to myself. But I promise I'll be back to work in good time." He gave a wry, lopsided smirk. "Anyway, d'you really think I could ever be lazy?"

Now Shifu chuckled openly. "Fair enough. And I was only teasing you, son. You know I am very proud of everything you do here...and if it is a bit startling to see you becoming a hopeless, sentimental romantic, it is also quite reassuring for my old heart." He paused and bit his lip. "It means I did not completely fail you, and rob you of the emotions a kung fu warrior needs to truly do good. The kindness, caring, and sympathy that render you a hero, a man, and not merely a weapon or a shield."

Tai Lung felt both his heart and expression soften as he saw the genuine regret and sorrow on the old panda's face, heard the real fondness and love in his voice. It was almost enough to make him embrace his father and forgive him for how he'd barged in and seemingly mocked him for his softer emotions. Almost.

While he struggled with what to say and do instead, Shifu went on. "I do understand. And as for your family, you know very well that I do babysit my darling grandchildren often enough, and I'd be happy to do it even more if it will give you this, er, 'me time' you seek, as Po would put it. I love them as much as I loved you at that age, Tai Lung." He paused again, then shook his head ruefully. "However, believe me when I say, between their strength and how wild and energetic they are, it truly is like dealing with two of you at that age. My tail will likely never be the same. How you get them to behave I shall never know."

In spite of himself, the snow leopard smirked. "Consider that payback for all the years of discipline, spoiling, and neglect." Then he chuckled, low and suggestive, before quickly stifling it.

His father winced visibly. "I deserved that...and what, may I ask, is so funny?" He sounded wary.

"Nothing, nothing at all," he said innocently, then adopted a sardonic tone. "I'll tell you when you're older." If he was feeling generous, anyway; it was far too much wicked fun to watch the panda flail about with the cubs to let him in on his personal secret way of handling them. "I will say this: it's your own fault they run all over you, Shifu. You're forever buying them candy, toys, and other sweets, so they think they can do whatever they want without you scolding or punishing them."

Shifu rose to his full diminutive height. "I'd have you know I didn't plan to buy them any today, nor do I do so every time I visit them. And I thought you complained when I didn't buy you enough?"

"Always the extremes with you, isn't it?" The snow leopard paused, then grinned slowly, cheekily, as a lovely bit of revenge for Shifu's teasing interruption came to him. "Besides...you'd never have time for all this spending and doting and being run ragged, if you had a woman to keep you busy. In fact, other than the one time, I never even saw you date, growing up. Is there something you're not telling me, Father?"

The panda knew exactly which female he was referring to, of course, and he was positive that, as well as the implication of his perpetual bachelorhood, was why he responded with so much offended dignity. "I don't know what you're talking about. Raising you, teaching you, I had no time for such things. But I'll have you know I did have enjoyable times with quite a number of ladies over the years."

Oh, he was going to regret giving him _that_ particular opening. "I mean a full-time girlfriend, Shifu. Not one of the ladies of the red light district." He frowned.

Shifu gasped, an utterly scandalized look on his face, one eye already twitching. "Tai Lung, how _dare_ you suggest—"

"Oh, don't play innocent with me. I was a teenager, but I knew damn well what you were doing. Or did you forget that when I was old enough, you offered me the opportunity to go into town once a year to satisfy my needs?" Warming up to his subject, Tai Lung actually rubbed his paws together a bit gleefully. "Did you think I wouldn't know you'd done the same thing? You may not have gone down to the red light district while I was growing up—that I know of..." He eyed his father dubiously. "...but how else could you have known where to go?"

"One does not have to sample the merchandise to know where it is sold," the panda replied sententiously.

"Yes. And I suppose that also explains all the things you told me to avoid, made me promise not to ask for, and what else you said _was_ allowable and would sate my urges best? Stammering, flushing, twitching—just like now, Father—but you did tell me." Indeed, he hadn't seen Shifu's eye twitch that badly in years. Not since... "What _would_ Lin say, if she knew you'd been to such a place? She'd never believe it. Or else she'd demand to know what all the ladies did, so she could then proceed to do it better."

Shifu flinched, shuffled his robes, and then fluttered his hands at Tai Lung. "_Please_, Tai Lung! I told you, never mention...that name any more. The past is over and done with. I thought you more than anyone agreed with that. Including regarding...her." Now his ears were twitching too.

The spotted feline had to agree, albeit a bit reluctantly. Considering everything, especially his own long-ago relationship with the canine cook, it probably was best not to dredge up such old, painful memories for both of them. But he wasn't ready to let Shifu off the hook entirely (and he knew Lin wouldn't have been either), so he returned to his original point. "Fine, but surely she wasn't the _only_ woman to catch your eye."

"I am far too busy in my position to..."

"I am the Master of the Jade Palace, and I'm married and have children. Don't give me the 'too busy' excuse." Fine, so he'd wedded Tigress and been given his new title at almost the same time, after several months of romance, but considering those had also been months when he'd been rather busy doing other highly stressful, kung fu-related activities, the point was still valid. "And I notice when it's you under discussion, suddenly one with all my duties isn't lazy any more."

Shifu ignored that to add another weak protest. "And all the fine women are already taken, or are just passing by the Valley with no intentions of staying."

"Shifu, at this point, even a one night stand would do you a world of good." He cast about for a final straw, the last bit of vengeance he could think of, and then smiled predatorially. "Besides, I know just who'd be perfect for you—Qiao Jian."

For several extremely tense moments the bedroom remained utterly silent and still. Then... "Are you out of your _mind_, Tai Lung? Me...and her..._together_?"

"I don't know," the snow leopard drawled casually. "Sounds like a match made in Ti'en to me."

His father stared at him, horrified. "You actually think I'd want to risk crossing even more lines, run afoul of even more taboos? As if having my son and daughter marry wasn't bad enough, now I'm to romance your mother?"

Tai Lung hooded his eyes in disgust and scorn. "Please. You know very well we aren't _really_ related, to each other or you. And if you and Jian did hit it off, that would only make you more _my_ father, not hers. Besides..." He grinned naughtily. "It's best to keep it all in the family, don't you think?"

The red panda let out a strangled cry and began nervously, frantically pacing about the room, paws clasped behind his back—tightly, so as to prevent their shaking, he presumed. As he spoke, it seemed to be more to himself than to the feline. "But that is just it...we have not, nor will we _ever_, 'hit it off', as you put it. She is...formidable. She has her own mind, her own conception of how things should be done, how your life should go, and she will hear nothing to the contrary, especially from me."

He laughed softly. "Oh yes, a woman who speaks her mind. That's such a terrible thing, is it?"

"You would not say that if you had experienced it firsthand."

"Did you forget who you're talking to, old man? I experience it every day. And it's actually rather refreshing. A damned sight better than a demure little housewife who always does what she's told and bows to your every whim!" He'd once thought that was what he wanted, that that was the way a wife should be, especially if she was the wife of the great Tai Lung—a belief he'd partly come to out of his own sense of superiority, partly due to Shifu's example.

But he'd had that beaten out of him fairly quickly (literally, in some instances) simply by being around Tigress, let alone learning the ways of romance from Viper or courting the striped feline. And now he wouldn't have it any other way. He didn't want a subservient woman, he wanted one who would stand up to him, tell him when he was wrong, be strong enough not only to equal him, to survive without him and be able to protect herself, but who more often than not actually surpassed him. Granted, there were times he'd wanted to roar her down or beat his own head in—even now, such desires still cropped up on occasion—but in the end, her independence made him love her _more_. He was so very proud of her.

Shifu, of course, didn't see it that way at the moment. "And did _you_ forget I had more than enough of such a stubborn, arrogant, overconfident, deliberately perverse attitude from that...that cook?" From the way he said 'perverse' he clearly meant it in every sense of the word. "Why would I want to subject myself to more of that from Jian?"

"I don't know," Tai Lung said musingly. "Who does _that_ sound like around here? For the life of me I can't think of _any_one at _all_ similar to that—oh wait, now I remember. As I said, Father, a perfect match."

For that he received a frosty glare. "I rather thought that sounded more like _you_, son."

"The peach doesn't fall far from the tree," he replied coolly.

They stared at each other for several quiet moments. Then Shifu sighed and looked away. "Fine. But even so, I see no reason why I should do such a thing—certainly not without the lady's consent, and not on your suggestion alone."

In spite of himself, Tai Lung couldn't help but hold both paws out imploringly. "But if you don't...she'll keep seeing Ning Guo. You _can't_ leave me with him as a stepfather. That's worse than Chorh-Gom!"

Shifu chuckled openly, and didn't stop smirking even when the snow leopard glared at him. "Your mother doesn't even live in the Valley, she only visits on occasion. You're worrying too much."

"But she returned so late! And that was just their first date!" Now he was getting desperate.

"If you're so worried," the red panda said with infinite patience—Tai Lung was certain only because the focus had moved off of his own love life, "why don't you go and ask him what his intentions are with Jian?"

"Oh, that'll go over well," the spotted feline snapped with bitter sarcasm. "And what if said intentions involve far too many personal and private details? You know he'd share far too many of them."

"Perhaps so. But as I just recalled, my original reason for coming here, before I discovered what was keeping you occupied, was to tell you that Tigress wishes you to go shopping in the village for her, and to take the twins with you." He smiled, seemingly at his own cleverness. "Which means you'll have the perfect chance to ask Ning Guo."

"Fine." Now Tai Lung was the one to speak flatly. "I'll tell him to put in a good word for you with Jian, since both of you are waist-height." Normally he'd never be able to speak of such raunchy and blatantly adult matters in reference to his old mother, but Shifu had this coming.

He wasn't disappointed—the red panda's face went beet red, then white, and finally settled into a sickly gray, though whether it was at the notion of himself or Ning Guo in that situation with Jian, or the fact the whole thing sounded like something Lin would have blurted out, was debatable.

Finally, just as he looked ready to either faint, throw up, or burst into a blistering tirade, Tai Lung looked at him, crossed his arms smugly, and smiled. He pitched his voice with just the right stilted touch. "Relax, Father. I was only teasing." _Mostly_.

Shifu blinked rapidly, several times in succession, then began to laugh weakly as he wiped at the suddenly clammy sweat on his brow. "Thank the gods! Very well played, Tai Lung, and I certainly deserved that. Touche."

Chuckling to himself in satisfaction, the snow leopard finally climbed out of bed and, after prudently concealing the romance novel in his dresser _and_ locking it for good measure, began making preparations for departure—putting on a shirt, fetching his cloak to ward away the spring damp, and searching for a satchel or two in which to place whatever groceries he was to buy. Though if he knew Tigress, he'd end up requiring far more than that before he was through.

He paused, however—not because he had any desire not to spend time with his darling children, or because he didn't wish to interrupt his private time since he knew he could resume as soon as he returned. It was because Shifu had blocked his way out of the room, standing there with his hands in his sleeves and his whiskered face peering up with an odd, wistful, almost fond smile on his face. Tai Lung had to fight the urge to pinch himself out of a dream; even after the old rodent had mellowed (or as much as he ever would), it was still hard to believe.

"I truly am sorry for the teasing, son. It does you credit, seeing what you have made of yourself and your life, what you have become. You are now wise as well as strong, peaceful as well as a phenomenal warrior, and loving as well as fierce in battle for those you protect. Seeing you at the Dragon Warrior's side is as awe-inspiring and wonderful as if you had been chosen yourself. I could not ask for a better son. And your family is so beautiful, you have been truly blessed. As you should be."

The words were so heartfelt, so sincere, both his expression and voice so warm and accepting that Tai Lung felt horribly guilty for what he'd put the old man through. He certainly didn't know what to say...so, he responded instead with his usual gruff, sardonic tone. "Beautifully put, Shifu."

The Grand Master coughed discreetly, seeming embarrassed himself at his unusual emotional outburst. "Er, yes. I just felt I needed to...get that off my chest."

"Of course."

"Since you'd stopped anyway, and all..."

"Yes, Father, thank you, I'm deeply touched. Now would you get out of the bloody door?"

Shifu looked around, seemed to realize where he was, and chuckled unevenly as he sidled out of the way. "Ah, yes. Quite right."

Just as the snow leopard had gone down the hallway, crossed the living room, and was almost out of the house, however, he heard the panda call out to him one last time. Bristling, he turned and looked back over his shoulder to see a smiling Shifu standing in the doorway of his room, looking...anticipatory, and oddly eager. "Oh, and Tai Lung..."

"Yes?"

"Don't forget to pick up the travel gear and supplies for our fishing trip tomorrow."

A long, meaningful look passed between them, and then the master of the Jade Palace smiled rather fondly himself before nodding firmly. "Absolutely. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

* * *

The sun was much higher in the sky when Tai Lung finally left the kwoon and began descending the countless steps toward the Valley floor, its heat having burned away much of the morning mist so as to expose the distant karst hills, the rich and verdant forests, the meandering streams and rivers, and the town far below. Yet somehow the snow leopard found himself unable to focus much on the breathtaking view...in fact he was feeling downright melancholy. And it was all because of old memories brought up by his banter with Shifu.

He sighed heavily. He knew why, of course—that far-too fortuitous and friendly encounter with Lin (as least on her part) on his way from Chorh-Gom back to the Valley of Peace. Oogway could spout his aphorism about accidents until the time came for his reincarnation, and Tai Lung would still swear that somehow or other, that crotchety old cook had engineered the whole thing, arranged it so she would 'coincidentally' cross paths with him after his escape...

In any event, that meeting had been put out of his mind in the flurry of events which followed with the Five, Shifu, and Po—far too easy for him to do, considering that prior to Lin showing up out of nowhere as she had, he'd managed to forget about her for the previous thirty-plus years, just as he'd sworn he would when she left the Valley and abandoned him.

But against his will, the memories had begun trickling back after that night when they'd cleaned out Oogway's room...for after Mantis and the others had left him to his privacy, Tai Lung had discovered the portrait of his cub self and the turtle had been painted by none other than Wei-Shan, the same famous artist whose work Lin had recognized (and practically worshiped) in the bathhouse.

Of course he'd done his level best to shut those painful recollections back down into the vaults of his mind, and the ready-made distractions of his quest for redemption, his pursuit of Tigress, and the appearance of Heian Chao had certainly aided him in that. Yet now, inexplicably, his thoughts had turned to her again...and while he'd managed to reference her only in the guise of tormenting Shifu, he found himself unable to dismiss her, instead brooding with increasing glumness on the whole matter. Why? Why was he thinking so much of the old hag now, of all times? He couldn't actually be missing her...

Out of the corner of his eye, as the mountain wind groaned and sighed in its branches, he caught a glimpse of the cherry tree beside the barracks, extending its gnarled limbs toward the tiled roof. The roof that had always been his haven, the one place he could hide from Shifu and the rigors of the training hall, get a chance to relax and be himself and dream.

Lin had found him there, joined him there, laid under the stars and told him of far-off places and the fascinating things she'd learned there...reprimanded him, but also told him she believed in him, that he could achieve his dreams. He could still see her, dangling ridiculously on a branch slowly breaking beneath her weight, forcing him to rescue her—twice. At the time, he'd been annoyed by the intrusion, or at least felt vaguely put upon, but now he could only chuckle and shake his head at the memory.

So many memories...as he glanced away, he instead found himself gazing across the mountainside toward the jutting ledge on which grew the Peach Tree of Heavenly Wisdom. He remembered vividly how often Lin had climbed it with surprising agility and speed, picking peaches for her pies and other desserts—earning Shifu's undying ire and resentment but only a bemused and approving smile from Oogway. Those desserts...while he'd always had something of a sweet tooth, it was getting to indulge himself with Lin's cooking that had irrevocably and fully set his habitual love of such a vice.

And that wasn't the only thing she'd taught and encouraged in him, the only manner in which she'd influenced him. His usage of the "cute kitten eyes" to get his way had been perfected under her tutelage. His cynical and sarcastic way of looking at the world, though it didn't come to full flower until his teenage years, had begun by rubbing off of her. While he'd come to his own conclusions on the matter thanks to his intense and unrelenting focus on mastering the thousand scrolls, as well as his experience with the Wu Sisters, he had to admit that Lin's advice about not being allowed to drink had stayed with him.

In fact if he'd remembered it later, it might have saved himself and everyone a lot of grief—for it could not be denied that his going down to the village to drown his sorrows the night of the rampage had indeed "gotten him in trouble." And the fact he'd often found Lin's insults to Shifu funny had likely affected his own caustic and harsh sense of humor in ways he wasn't even aware of. By the same token, though, there were things he remembered now, things he had deliberately tried to expunge or which had simply been forgotten, which he wished had not. Lessons he should have learned, ones that would have spared everyone much pain.

That he didn't have to look tough to be tough. That kung fu was not about fighting, but helping. That Shifu acting like an overbearing mother had proven he did, in fact, love Tai Lung. That what he wanted wouldn't necessarily make him happy. That he shouldn't hide and sulk every time someone hurt him and could not keep from getting hurt, because "people who love you most do most of the hurting, 'cause when people care they just seem to mess up all the more." And most of all, that the Dragon Scroll might be a riddle, something he would not expect.

He'd dismissed her, rejected her, tried to drive his memories of her away until it was as if she had never entered his life at all. He had denied he cared, even though he did more than he could put into words, even now. He had been influenced greatly by her, for good and for ill. And he had to admit, in the end, she'd been more right than he ever could have imagined.

A smile quirked the corners of his mouth, beginning small and becoming quite broad and rakish, as he realized, with extreme ruefulness, that Lin's warning about women had been incredibly apropos. _Absolutely merciless, like many hungry locusts that will devour men alive? That's Tigress, all right. _And yet, after falling victim to this "insidious foe" as his cubhood self had once hoped not to, he wouldn't have it any other way.

If only he'd remembered the advice he'd gleaned from his scrolls, to tell women they were strong, confident, beautiful, and he respected them. That would have helped matters enormously with Tigress. _So Lin was also wrong, I was hardly a natural ladies' man. _He shook his head a bit mournfully, chuckling softly to himself.

Even accepting such things about himself, knowing he was hardly the great warrior as a cub as he was now, knowing he had utterly failed at hooking up Lin and Shifu and would never have won Tigress's heart without Viper and Mei Ling's help, somehow did not sting so badly. Not when he recalled what he had done, what he had learned, and how good it had felt to have people who cared, people who believed in him, when no one else did...not even himself.

Lin had left him, yes. But at least she had been there once, at least she had tried, and had given him more than anyone else had up to that point. And he found that despite everything, despite how annoying, smug, self-congratulatory, insulting, and condescending she could be, he also couldn't help remembering the good times, the happy memories.

And...he _did_ miss Lin. He'd thought kung fu would be the only thing that wouldn't let him down...but he had let himself down instead, let kung fu down. Yet when he'd encountered Lin on that snowy slope, she surely must have known what he'd done, twenty years before—and she had still cared about him, still believed in him. He hoped, wherever she was, that she'd found peace. Or more likely, was driving someone insane with her endless, know-it-all chatter and brazen, brutally honest jokes at their expense.

Suddenly, before he could reflect any further on Lin and what she had done for his life, Tai Lung felt a small weight shift on his left shoulder, and then a soft-furred, oversized, striped paw waved up and down in front of his face, startling him. "Uh...Baba? You okay? You kinda...spaced out there."

From his other shoulder, a slightly prim and feminine voice spoke up. "Hu, don't you remember? Mama told us Baba wanted to take it easy today. If he's going to rest, then I bet he's not going to want to talk much, either."

Hu snorted and eyed his sister sardonically across Tai Lung's blocky head. "Yeah, but...nothing, the whole time we're walkin' down the mountain? We're already at the bridge! Nobody talks as much as Uncle Po, but...are you sure Baba ain't sick? He didn't even ask us about our day!"

"Maybe he's bored hearing you go on and on about how 'awesome' the Dragon Warrior is. Maybe he thinks you should be talking about Mama that way." Huo glared at him pointedly.

"I do too!" his son said defensively. "Mama's the best! And Uncle Monkey, Uncle Crane, Aunt Viper..." He counted on his fingers.

"Do _not_," the already svelte little snow leopardess insisted, elevating her nose.

"Do _so_!"

"Do _not_!"

The tiger boy growled under his breath, golden eyes flashing. "You take that back, or I'm gonna shove you in Baba's grocery basket!"

An eyebrow raised above a ruby eye. "You mean, you're going to _try_," Huo retorted archly.

Before matters got any worse, Tai Lung swiftly reached up and placed a paw on each of his children's shoulders, gently but firmly holding them apart. "All right now, that's enough! Huo, don't egg your brother on. Hu...you know very well she's just as strong as you, and much sneakier. So unless you _want_ to have your muzzle ground in the dirt..." _There'll be plenty of time for them to batter each other senseless later. Preferably when I am **not** their perch_.

The boy sighed heavily, grumbled audibly, and sat back in a huff, arms crossed as he glared at his sister but didn't press his attack. "Aww Baba, you never let me have any fun..." His sullen tone, pugnacious expression, and cute, pleading look in his eyes was so very like Tai Lung at that age despite his striped face that his father had to start laughing in spite of himself.

His children...his precious son and daughter. How he treasured and adored them as the rewards they were. Five years old now, nearly six, both as bright and precocious as could be, just like their parents...though he had to note as always, and with wry amusement, how else they took after their parents.

Whether because she had inherited Tigress's thirst to prove herself and bold strength of purpose (despite, as yet, not showing more than a passing interest in kung fu), or because she simply had her mother's intelligence and fiery spirit, Huo showed a voracious interest in learning and academics which accounted for her slightly more erudite, and definitely more proper, vocabulary—or perhaps she was simply determined to be as mature as possible. Something which had been true of Tai Lung at that age as well...

As for Hu, while the boy could hardly be called lazy and in fact his mind was nearly as sharp as those of the rest of his family, he did adopt a certain easygoing, carefree attitude in his speech as well as his outlook on life—the sort of slight condescension and sardonic nature which the master of the Jade Palace had always nurtured and which was true of so many cats.

Luckily he did not, as yet, display any signs of true arrogance and contempt for those 'beneath' him, which Tai Lung sincerely hoped would never appear and he was determined to stamp out the minute he spied them taking root—but he did have the same fascination with kung fu as his father had at that age, and continually begged to be allowed to watch his parents, Po, and the rest of the Five in the kwoon, if not participate himself.

Huo...how appropriate her name had been, considering she had the spitfire nature and, when riled enough, fiery temper of _both_ her parents. While his boy, the one who would carry on his name and lineage, who had the incredible strength of both his parents plus an inner tenderness neither of them had allowed to flourish until now, so many years late, a compassion and sympathy and caring which oddly enough seemed more like Po than anyone else...

When the tiger cub had been born, Tai Lung had been sorely tempted to name him something grand, something in honor of the great kung fu tradition to which he was heir, something which hearkened to the title his father had aspired to and the one he had actually been given, the sheer breadth of knowledge he would inherit and the warrior spirit which would surely blossom into a prowess like the mighty snow leopard who had sired him. A name like Tai Lung's own, or at least something impressive like "fighter" or "mountain"...

But no. When he had looked into his son's eyes for the first time, and remembered how he had earned the right to have this gift by changing himself for the better, he had known that whatever kung fu might lie in his future, his son was a blessing. And if he did learn his father's craft, it would be to act as Tai Lung and Po did, as a protector and defender, not a conqueror or warmonger whose blood ran hot with a love of battle. Once, he could never have considered such a relatively peaceful name, would have found it the height of cowardice and weakness. Now, he knew better. Now, he knew his son would be everything he had not been, right from the start.

That is, after he was old enough, of course. When it was safe.

As if Hu had read his thoughts, the tiger cub sat up from his depressed funk and lashed his tail in his father's face to get his attention. "We sure had fun this morning, though! Mama kicked Auntie Mei's _butt _on the snakes!" He stared at his sister meaningfully. "And Uncle Monkey was sooo cool on those rings! And Uncle Po took out those wooden warriors like he was as strong as you, Baba! And the way Aunt Viper did the Field of Fiery Death..." He savored every word, the title of that obstacle being the only he had learned so far. "I'm gonna do it just like that, just you wait and see!"

Tai Lung tried not to groan audibly; he loved his son's enthusiasm, but... "I'm sure you will, _xiǎo jiāhuo_. But not yet. Not until you're older."

"Why?"

"You're not ready yet, and it's far too dangerous."

"Why?"

"Because some of those obstacles are made for much bigger warriors, son. They assume you know what you're doing, that you have the skills you need to survive. They could kill you, Hu...and you can't start learning how to face them yet." He crossed his fingers and prayed.

But of course, like his father, Hu was stubborn. "Why not? I thought you were already tearin' up the kwoon at our age, Baba!"

"Yes..." he admitted, reluctantly.

Huo had raised an amused eyebrow at him. "Didn't Yeh-Yeh Shifu even set up a training schedule and everything when you showed interest and skill? Not that _I_ care."

"True, that he did."

"Well, then why not?"

Tai Lung closed his eyes in obscure pain. _This must be that undiscovered form of torture I've heard tell about. Are they **trying** to break my sanity, so I'll be more lenient with them? _Simply to be as equally maddening in return, since he knew they hated it as all children hated it, as he himself had hated it when Shifu pulled it on him, he finally replied, "Because."

He wasn't disappointed. "Aww _man_! _Please_, Baba? You know I can do it!" Hu knelt on his shoulder, shooting him those desperate kitten eyes that were nearly impossible to resist. "Sis spends all her time with dusty old scrolls, or with Mama, she doesn't even wanna train, so you don't gotta worry about her—"

"That's because I don't _need_ the kwoon," Huo interjected calmly. "_If_ I ever want to learn, Mama can instruct me."

As if he hadn't heard her, his son continued. "—but I can do it, I know I can! I can be brave and strong, don't ya believe me, Baba? I wanna be just like you!" He clung to his father's ear pleadingly.

For a moment Tai Lung wavered; he hated disappointing his children, and he couldn't deny the thought of either of them (but especially his son) training in kung fu made him inordinately proud. But Hu's tack had given him the response he needed. "I'm afraid not," he said gently, regretfully. "Not yet, anyway. Starting that young, well...it got your Baba into trouble. So let's give you a couple more years, see how I feel then, all right?"

He knew he was being overprotective—in fact that was why he was carrying them on his shoulders, using the very long descent down the many steps as an excuse—but he couldn't help it. He never wanted anything to happen to them...especially not for either of them to suffer the same fate he had. He knew Hu wanted this badly, but he had to be sure it was for the right reasons, for his own betterment and to help others and be a true hero, not to look 'cool' or because he thought it was expected of him and the only worthwhile life to lead.

The boy wilted visibly, slumping on his shoulder, and Tai Lung longed to comfort him. But at that moment his sister spoke up again, an arch tone in her little voice. "Speaking of being older, Baba, we _can_ walk by ourselves, you know. We're already down the stairs and across the bridge, after all."

"No," Tai Lung replied instantly, even though he knew that was another word geared to get the worst possible reaction from a child. "The village is very busy, very full, you could get trampled underfoot. I'm not putting you down till we reach the market."

Hu stiffened again. "But Baba, we're five years old!"

"And ten months," Huo added intently.

"And ten months," Hu echoed her. "So we _are_ old enough, see?"

Pausing on the other side of the moon bridge, on the cobblestones just before he would enter the village proper, the snow leopard pretended to consider, as if actually listening to cub logic. Then he started walking again and said matter-of-factly, "Maybe. But I'm your father, I'm _forty-three_ years old and eight months, so I outrank you. Got it?"

There was a few long moments of silence. Then, resentfully, in chorus: "Yes, Baba."

"Good. You know I only do it because I love you." Kissing each of them on top of the head (Huo accepted it with equanimity, while of course Hu squirmed, pretending to get away even as he purred happily), he added as an afterthought, "By the way, was your Uncle Po behaving himself?"

Hu made a disgusted face. "Nah, he and Aunt Jia were kissin' under the bleachers again."

"Master Mantis actually said they were making out, whatever that means," Huo said sagely, her face deadpan solemn; he had the feeling she knew exactly what it meant.

"Master Mantis needs a little punishment," Tai Lung muttered darkly, then sighed. "Never mind, I'm sure your mother will take care of it." _Which means Po and especially Jia are going to wish they had the whole empire between them and Tigress. While Mantis and Monkey will be devouring almond cookies and charging barrels of _mou_ for ringside seats_. "Let's get to the market then, shall we?"

Both his cubs cheered eagerly, but just as he thought he'd dodged that particular arrow, Hu spoke up again, his tone completely and utterly innocent. "Uncle Mantis really does say the kookiest things, though. When he caught Aunt Jia and Uncle Po, he said 'bom chicka wow wow'. What does that mean, Baba?"

Tai Lung squeezed his eyes shut and briefly buried his face in his paw. _I am going to kill him. Dismember him limb from limb, have Po fry him for dinner, and feed him to everyone. Assuming Tigress doesn't get to him first. _"I'll tell you when you're older, Hu. Much, _much_ older..."

On that note, the snow leopard swiftly carried his children into the teeming streets of the village before anything worse could be said or objections raised. And while he might be overprotective, he happened to think his worries about trampling were right on the money, since everywhere he looked there were hordes of sheep, pigs, geese, and rabbits thronging about—mothers shepherding their children, merchants hawking their wares, caravan guards eyeing the crowds suspiciously, temple servants fetching incense for their inner sanctums, outsider travelers from distant provinces, and more.

Luckily, not only were most of them dwarfed by Tai Lung so that he could maneuver his way easily (but carefully) between them, but as soon as most of the Valley's citizens recognized the master of the Jade Palace, they bowed deeply and moved aside for him—many grinning and waving goofily at Hu and Huo as they did so.

When at last he had reached the center of the town's busiest plaza, which was in turn in the middle of the busy marketplace, Tai Lung worked his way to one side of the square until he could slip to relative safety, underneath a storefront awning at the edge of the crowd that kept him and his children out of the line of fire. There he finally scooped his son and daughter off of his shoulders and set them down before him on the cobblestones. He could tell at a glance, of course, how excited and raring to go both of them were, especially Hu who held as much energy and manic glee as he had at that age. But they both stood quite still, expectant and well-behaved, paws clasped behind their backs and faces upturned with questioning hopefulness.

At once he laughed and bent down on one knee before them, giving each of them a warm hug and ruffling fur and ears. Huo made a disapproving face as she tried to adopt a ladylike pose and smooth out her pelt, while Hu only giggled and purred. "All right now, you little imps, I know what you want and how badly. But you don't get something for nothing. You know what to do." He looked from one face to the other, then flicked his gaze out into the teeming market. "Ready to go?"

"Yes," Huo supplied at once, eyes shining.

"We were _born_ ready!" Hu said almost on top of her, in a very familiar tone and emphasis indeed.

"That's what I like to hear." He crossed his arms over his chest, putting on his best stern look. "First thing Baba needs, then, is potatoes and rice. I wonder who—"

"Me, me!" The little tiger practically leaped off the ground, waving his striped arms and bouncing up and down. "I can do it, I can do it!"

"Are you _sure_?" Tai Lung drawled skeptically. "The bags will be large, and _very_ heavy..."

Hu puffed out his fluffy chest and strutted in place. "'Course I can! I'm as strong as you are, Baba! Someday I'm gonna be stronger, too, just you wait and see!" He lifted first one arm, then the other, to flex and show off his young muscles.

Carefully concealing a grin behind his musing paw—_I wonder where he could have picked that up? Haven't a clue—_he looked to his daughter. "Then I suppose that means you'll fetch the soy sauce, ginger, and garlic for me, while I take care of the fish? That way Mama can make her spicy sauce salmon tonight."

He smiled openly at that; to his extreme pleasure and relief, Dalang's tutelage of nearly five years ago and his own patience that he had learned at last to cultivate had made Tigress's culinary lessons go far smoother than his own, and she had in fact thankfully turned into quite a cook. And she'd managed to do so without either of them killing each other, a minor miracle in itself. Something he'd rubbed in the smug Amur's face. Nicely.

Huo's eyes sparkled even brighter and she rose to her full height. "Of course, Baba. Carrying all those bottles and jars needs balance and intelligence." She turned and artfully stuck her tongue out at her posturing brother. "Which leaves _you_ out. You're so careless, you'd break them all."

Before the boy could do more than growl and gather himself for pouncing upon his sister, Tai Lung swiftly placed a paw on Hu's shoulder to restrain him. "Now stop that, Huo, you should really be above that sort of thing, you know. Everyone has his or her own talents, things they're suited to. Let your brother do his, you carry out yours, and remember we're all just as valuable here."

Eyeing her meaningfully until she looked contrite, he reached into his belt pouch and began counting out coins from his cash string. His little girl always did love to impress him, but she needed to be reminded every now and then—as did Hu, truth be told—about balance and equality. He had to draw on his entire store of memories of Oogway's moral sayings, and sometimes even appeal to Po, to find the wisdom to stay ahead of, and properly instruct, his clever twins.

After he had finished furnishing her with the needed funds, he did the same for Hu, who unsurprisingly was still glaring resentfully at the little snow leopardess. "There you go, that should be enough for now." His children were intelligent enough to do the proper sums, keep track of the prices, and make sure they came back with correct change, but even if they made a mistake, the merchants were all fair and honest and would double-check every transaction. _Especially when they recognize just who their adorable customers are. At least they will if they know what's good for them! _

Not that he'd ever harm any of them, but...a little pressure from the Jade Palace to keep everyone on the straight and narrow never hurt. Implication was everything.

Popping each of them on the rump, he smiled and shooed them off. "Now you know what to do, get going! The sooner you get back, the sooner we get everything on the list—and the sooner you can get your reward." That, of course, was the magic word, and in seconds both cubs were scampering off, paws tightly clutched around their small change-purses, each carrying a basket or pouch, easily weaving their way with practiced skill until they had joined two lines for stalls on the far side of the plaza—still within sight, of course. He sighed slowly.

And that was when the voice spoke behind him...the creaky, wheezy, rough voice he'd never thought he would hear again, that he'd last heard on a snowy slope between Xinjiang and Gansu. "Well, if that doesn't beat all! Never thought I'd see the day...but I'd recognize those cute kitten eyes anywhere, they've gotta be _your_ kids."

For the second time that day, Tai Lung leaped several feet off the ground and let out a startled yowl of shock and disbelief. Unsurprisingly, when he landed he found himself face-to-face (since he'd twisted about in mid-air) with a snorting, wildly cackling figure that was all too familiar. Despite being so much older now, she _still_ looked like an ambulatory dandelion, with fur so snarled and explosively puffy she put him in mind of a ball of wool that had been carded and teased by a mad seamstress.

Even if she'd been shaved bald though (an image that briefly had him snickering almost as much as she was), he'd have known her—that voice, that laugh, and even the all-too-knowing and cocky gleam in her eyes as she regarded the world and everything around her as the most colossal and ridiculous joke ever devised—perhaps, he realized upon reflection, because it was the only way for her to keep from screaming at the cruelty, injustice, and insane imbalance of life. He'd thought he'd never see her again, in fact he had fervently hoped he wouldn't. Yet here she was. _How did she know? Oogway, if this is another of your cosmic jokes_...

"Oh...oh _crap_...hah-hah..." Lin held a hand clasped to her chest as if her heart were about to stop, and she in fact looked in danger of falling over, so much so she had to lean against one of the awning posts to stay upright. "C'mon, ticker, don't stop beating..."

"Yes, perish the thought were that to happen," Tai Lung replied sardonically.

"Can it," the dog said absently, then immediately started wheezing and chuckling again. "Ya oughta know by now, nothin's gonna knock out this old warhorse. Hell, not even a warhorse. Did I ever tell ya 'bout the time I rode one to get away from the highway patrol that was after me? If ya know what I mean..."

_Gah! No...must...avoid...mental images... _"No, I must have missed that one, was that before or after you met the _yokou_?" Before she could do more than open her mouth, he swiftly cut her off. "Nevermind. Seriously, old woman, don't die laughing on me here."

"What'd I tell ya already? I've had a good life. Besides, that'd be a great way to go, don'tcha think?" Her expression turned wistful and reminiscing—and then sly. "It'd be better than springtime. Better than sex. Not that you'd know anything about that."

Tai Lung bristled in spite of himself—this long after the fact, it still nettled him he'd remained a virgin for so long. "Did you forget my two bundles of joy over there? I'll have you know I know a damn sight more about it than you think. And nothing is better than sex."

He couldn't believe he was having this conversation, of all things, with Lin, but after Mantis and Monkey he wasn't about to take such impugning of his masculinity sitting down any longer. Even if he knew for a fact there were things that were better...like spending time with his family, holding his cubs, cuddling with Tigress, fighting side by side with Po...

"That's right, I guess you would," Lin interrupted his thoughts with a nonplussed look. "Well, I'm glad ya finally found something to get your mind off kung fu for a change. That really wasn't healthy for ya, you know."

_Tell me about it._ "Well actually," he drawled, unable to resist yanking her chain a little, "there's more connection between the two than one might think. Kung fu _does_ improve constitution and stamina, after all." He buffed his knuckles on his chest fur.

"It does?" Lin's tone was so openly mystified and amazed it had to be feigned, but he wasn't quite sure, until she went on. "Well jeez, guess I shoulda made sure to jump old Melonhead's bones before I left the Valley, eh? 'Cause there's no way he'd be up for that now, and even if he was, I'd still have to show him _everything_..."

Tai Lung groaned and slapped his forehead, but he couldn't even blame Lin for this; he had given her the opening, after all. "Oh gods...this must be some sort of divine punishment..."

As if she hadn't even heard him, Lin kept nattering on. "...and at his age, he'd probably die right in the middle of it—and ya know, that'd be an even better way to go than dyin' laughing? But like I was sayin', I'm just fine, so don't you worry. It's just, ya shoulda seen the look on your face! Worth waiting seven years for..."

"I can only imagine." He had to allow, privately, that he likely had looked rather comical, reacting as he had, but he would never admit that aloud. At least she seemed to have gotten off the topic of sex.

Not that her next words were any better. "You're _still_ using that accent? Guess some things just stick and become habits. And I guess it did nab ya a girl after all..."

In point of fact, he had _not_ adopted the accent for any such purpose, it was something he had picked up during one of his visits to the capital with Oogway—in all honesty, a way to impress everyone with how high-class and sophisticated his education was encouraging him to be. Lin had always said he tried so hard to be grown-up, and considering how his training had made him mature far too quickly, she'd been right in at least that sense. Not that he would admit that either.

Choosing not to dignify her words with a response, he instead latched onto what she'd said previously. "So why _did_ it take you seven years to come back to the Valley, may I ask? And where have you been since we...parted ways?" He tried to sidestep the manner in which he'd last spoken to her.

Of course, she didn't let him get away with that for a moment. "You mean, when ya threatened—repeatedly, I might add—to kill me?" she said flatly. "After ya almost strangled me?"

"Um, yes. That. Sorry. I was, er, having a bad day." He shifted uncomfortably in place, his words sounding lame even to him. He should have known she wouldn't let him off the hook so easily; and considering all the other sins he'd committed that he'd had to atone for since Po used the Wuxi Finger Hold, it was only fitting and right.

Except Lin surprised him again. Brushing her fur out of her eyes, she turned the gesture into a flippant wave. "Eh, forget it. I understand, water under the bridge and all that."

He blinked. "Really?"

"Of course. We all have bad days. I've been known to have a few myself."

"You don't say," he gasped, affecting the same tone she had when he'd been bragging about what kung fu had done for his stamina.

"No, no, it's true," Lin reassured him, as if he'd been completely sincere. "So I understand where you're coming from. Besides...I know ya had your heart set on that scroll. You'd been through a lot, that stupid marmoset made ya think getting some shiny piece of parchment and a title was the only way to make your life worthwhile, ya thought nobody believed in ya, and then I showed up outta nowhere and reminded ya of someone _else_ who hurt ya. Doesn't justify what ya did, but it sure as hell explains it."

Tai Lung would have laughed at the dog's usual 'mixup' of Shifu's species, if he weren't so stunned how, as usual, Lin saw right to the heart of the matter and understood him better than anyone else—better than he had himself. How could someone so seemingly simple-minded be so wise? But then that also applied to the only other person who had shown such insight about him...Po. And even Oogway's mysticism and Zen sayings, when pared down to the essence, were utterly simple. Perhaps part of his problem was that, like Shifu, he had always tried to make things far too complicated.

While he was still reeling from that bit of self-knowledge, Lin barreled on. "Where was I? Shacking up with Wei-Shan, of course. If ya didn't know, he lives not too far from Chorh-Gom, and when I came back to China he was one of the people I most wanted to see again. So after ya showed me the gentle side of your tongue, I decided discretion was the better part of valor for once and pushed on to his place. I figured it was best to stay out of your way till ya got what ya wanted, or ya didn't."

"That...was probably for the best, yes," he said faintly.

Lin opened her mouth again, then closed it. "Okay, this is gonna take too long to tell ya, we've got a lot to catch up on, and my back ain't what it used to be. Think we can siddown somewhere?"

Tai Lung looked around and noticed that while a number of people were watching in amusement, while others seemed rather wary—of Lin, as well as himself!—most of the crowd continued on their typical everyday pursuits. Through the milling villagers, he spied a nearby terrace fronting a cafe, one with just enough space for maneuvering while still being small enough to ensure privacy. And it was even still within view of the stalls where his cubs would be shopping.

Pointing with a thumb, he led Lin in a still slightly befuddled state to one of the sets of wooden table and chairs. As the master of the Jade Palace, of course, he was generally given the run of the town now, allowed to visit and even loiter in and around any number of establishments, but he felt it was only the courteous thing to do to order something from the cafe proprietor. That, and he wanted something solid and secure to hold onto...

After he'd received a steaming cup of his favorite oolong, the dog asked, as she had on that mountaintop, whether she could light her pipe. This time he was much more magnanimous about it, and he had to admit that it didn't bother him any more—no more than any other pungent aroma did. Once they were both situated, and Lin had puffed out several large, billowing clouds of smoke, she drummed her fingers a bit on the table. "Where was I...oh yeah!

"Well, anyway, I went and stayed with Wei-Shan, and we both figured we'd wait to hear what news there was from the Valley before we tried to get involved and stumble into some serious shit. And once Shifu sent Wei-Shan a letter, saying he was trying to reform ya, turn ya back into a hero and find ya a place in the Valley again, I knew I made the right choice. The last person either of ya would wanna see at that point was me, and seein' as how I didn't hang around to help keep ya on the straight and narrow, it'd be downright stupid thinking either of you would let me help—and as you know, I never do anything stupid." She winked knowingly, but then her expression turned serious.

"Besides, what do I know about turning people's lives around or makin' heroes out of 'em? I'm not a kung fu warrior, and I have enough trouble dodgin' my own shady past. Plus, my business is gettin' people riled up, ready to rebel and change their lives for the better, not keeping 'em calm and contemplatin' their navel lint so they can fix their souls or whatever. Don't know if Shifu told ya about that..."

Tai Lung nodded but did not trust himself to speak; it had explained a great deal, about Lin's personality, her secretiveness, and why she'd had to flee China, but it hadn't been enough to make him forgive her. Of course now he could see how her desire to help oppressed people in need—even if it meant she had to sacrifice her own happiness in the bargain—was a selfless and noble act, the sort of thing he was supposed to have been doing on his path to attaining the Dragon Scroll; perhaps she knew more about heroism than she realized. But at the time, it had just seemed another nail in the coffin of their relationship, that she had believed helping all these nameless others was more important than keeping a low profile, allowing the authorities to forget about her...and staying with him.

"No, I'm all about givin' people the tools to help themselves, not saving 'em and doing it for 'em." Lin gave him a hard look, then turned her gaze meaningfully across the village, toward the Jade Palace high on its verdant peak. "And this was between you an' Numbnuts anyway. I tried to tell him, I warned him and warned him he needed to treat ya differently, like a real son, instead of makin' everything about kung fu and spoiling ya with praise every time ya answered everything with violence, the way he wanted ya to. But he wouldn't listen.

"So...he made his bed, he could lie in it. He's the one who screwed you up, so it was gonna be up to him to set you right. Even if I coulda helped, I wasn't gonna come between you two finally learning to have a decent relationship. Or _him_ from having his nose rubbed in the shit he dumped on everyone."

Once, Lin's judgmental and arrogant words would have upset him greatly, infuriated him even—when he was still a cub, still thought the sun rose and set on Shifu and he could do no wrong. Even if he was a terrifying and intimidating figure for all his diminutive size. Now, although he had forgiven his father, understood where he was coming from, and Shifu had made amends as well as leaps and bounds...well, more like tentative steps and slow crawls...in being a better parent, the snow leopard agreed with her completely. The red panda _had_ screwed up, ruined both their lives for years, thus justifying in his mind so many of his own heinous acts during the rampage and their battle twenty years later.

But in the end, he had managed to do the right thing after all, redressed the balance, set his son on the proper, honorable course. And he had done so with assistance from Viper, Crane, and especially Po—without interference from Lin. She had made the right choice; her presence would have only riled Shifu and made matters worse. Particularly considering the nature of the siege which had followed...

As if she'd read his mind, the old canine gave him an uneasy look, puffed her pipe a few more times, and went on. "It was a good thing I didn't, too. 'Cause even while you were getting your head put back on straight, Wei-Shan and I started hearin' about those awful killings. The emperor's soldiers couldn't do anything—typical!—and the Kung Fu Council was busy with some invasion or other, I never got the details. When the murders started gettin' real close to his place, Wei-Shan tried to comfort people in the nearby villages—seeing as how that would've been way out of my element—" In spite of himself Tai Lung snorted.

"Which is why he was right on hand when the dead started walkin' in Qinghe." Lin shook her head in disbelief. "And here I thought all that voodoo crap was just mystical mumbo-jumbo. Well I sure was proven wrong that day. It was a good thing for the villagers Wei-Shan was there. Not sure what he did, some kinda _chi_ thing with his staff—woulda been funny, seeing all those zombies getting blasted off, if it weren't so damn morbid—and then he got the villagers to high-tail it outta there. Wasn't enough room or food for them to stay with us, but he at least got 'em supplied so they could make it to other villages. He got 'em to take their dead with them, too, so they wouldn't get attacked again...and to keep their loved ones from being abused like that by Chao."

At his startled look and choking sound, Lin glanced at him. "Yeah, Wei-Shan knew who he was. Guess he felt that asshole's _chi_ when he visited the Valley sometime, and Oogway told him all about it and what he hoped would happen to the bastard, if you could ever be the warrior he wanted you to be. Glad I didn't know; if I had, I never would have gone to the palace to begin with."

She paused, then smiled at him warmly, an expression he hadn't seen in years, one that made her look much younger and happier despite her ragged, puffy fur. "But you did it, kid. You took care of that mangy bird, saved the empire—and from what Shifu said in his letter, ya looked damned awesome while doing it. I told you I knew you'd do what you set out to do, you'd be a hero and a great warrior and everything—and you didn't even need that scroll to do it. So, I guess it really all did work out the way it was supposed to. That Oogway, he was nuttier than a fruitcake, but he sure knew what he was doing."

"Yes...yes he did, at that..." Throat suddenly dry, Tai Lung took another long drink of his tea. To know that Lin had been there, all along, in the background...that on the one paw, she, too, had been in grave danger and he hadn't even known it, but on the other paw her refusal to return to the Valley might well have saved her life—for if she had not been possessed or slaughtered by Chao, her loud mouth and determination to stand up against oppression would at least have gotten her murdered by Xiu or Chun... It boggled his mind.

He wasn't surprised that Lin had still believed in him though, nor that she would praise him now for his great deeds—aside from everyone else doing so after Chao's defeat, Lin had always believed in him, encouraged him to achieve his dreams. Which only made him feel extremely guilty instead. "I...truly am sorry, Lin. For the things I said, and the way I acted, that day we met again. You didn't deserve it."

"Sure I did!" the dog announced breezily, almost gaily. "Anyway, it's okay, I'm used to men apologizin' to me. Must be 'cause of my scintillating personality. And how men always screw up."

There was no way to answer that without angering her, so he settled on awkwardness instead. "Um...yes."

"Besides, I didn't really help matters much, tryin' to mother ya and give ya words of wisdom when ya just needed to be alone. And I kinda feel bad too." When he gave her a quizzical look, she looked embarrassed and waved her pipe-stem at him. "Well see, there I was, telling ya I believed in you, that I knew you'd get everything ya hoped for—but in one of my arguments with Shifu, I once said I hoped your scroll was blank. Which...really didn't show much respect for you or your dreams. So, I'm sorry too."

The look of heartfelt contrition on her wizened face was so rare he didn't want to disturb it, and it almost made up for all those years she'd abandoned him. But the irony in what she'd just told him was so strong that he couldn't help but blurt out the truth. "Er...thank you, Lin. But don't feel...too bad. Because...you were right."

"Of course I was right, I'm always right—wait, I was?"

At any other time he would laughed outright at the poleaxed look on her face. "Yes. Well, sort of. It was actually a reflection, meant to make me look at myself—literally—and see the strength and abilities I already had within." He smirked self-deprecatingly. "Which means you were still right—it _was_ a riddle, and one I didn't get until it was too late."

For several moments she stared at him without making a sound. Then she burst out laughing. Even though he'd expected it, it still hurt a little. It helped though that after all this time, with hindsight, the whole thing had started to seem a bit funny, which was why after a few moments he actually joined her, although he only chuckled quietly rather than wheezing raucously as she did.

When her laughter had at last died down, Lin shook her head. "Huh, who'd of thunk it? And there I was just making stuff up to try and get you to think. Maybe I should be a soothsayer, huh?"

He pursed his lips coolly. "Don't wrench your arm out of its socket patting yourself on the back there."

"I haven't done that once in the last thirty years," she remarked just as snidely, "so I think I'm safe."

"My goodness, woman, you really have not changed a bit."

"Neither have you," Lin retorted. "Well, your humor's gotten better but I'm sure that's all due to my illustrious influence. You sure didn't get it from the lemur. But no," she added before he could do more than growl menacingly, "from what Wei-Shan and I heard, you lost to the Dragon Warrior, not just 'cause ya didn't understand the scroll, but because ya got overconfident. You thought 'cause ya knew all those thousand scrolls—don't get me wrong, that's still pretty damned impressive!—that nobody could ever beat ya, definitely not a big, fat panda. Ya forgot what I told ya, no matter how good you are you're never the best."

Tai Lung groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut in despair. "I know, _I know_, you blasted, pompous bitch! I've already been through all this, and learned my lesson long ago, thank you very much!"

"Remember those crocodile bandits we fought?" she said meaningfully. "You thought you were ready to face them, too, but ya weren't." Then she paused, as what he'd said finally sank in. To his shock, she didn't seem fazed by his language, or even angry. Instead she only looked deeply ashamed. "Um wait—what? You have?"

Forcibly restraining himself, and pushing his anger down into his _chi_ until he felt calm and controlled once more, the snow leopard nevertheless gritted his teeth and gripped the edge of the table until the wood cracked. That felt better. "Yes. Yes, I have. I appreciate the attempt, but it's not necessary. Everyone here at the palace has made it very clear to me just where and how I went wrong, starting with Po himself. And ever since then, I've done my level best to think outside that box. That's why I can fight at the Dragon Warrior's side. I know I'm still the best—I just have an equal now. Many equals. And we all have our roles to play and niches to fill. So, if you don't mind, I'd rather shelve the lecture and talk about something more pleasant, hmm?"

For several moments Lin's mouth worked, and he didn't know if she were amazed at the progress he'd made or simply stunned someone, let alone him, had spoken to her like that. Then she said, in a small voice, "Oh. Okay. Well, that...that's good. Glad we had this talk."

She sounded so much like Po in that moment that he almost laughed, and relief filled him as he felt his anger dissipating. He truly did not want to fight with Lin. Not for real, anyway. Which was why, after nodding slowly, he lifted his teacup to drink, paused, and said matter-of-factly, "Good. And anyway, in case you didn't know, I eat bandits for breakfast these days."

Lin snorted. "Is that how you got so big?"

"Well, it certainly wasn't from eating Shifu's cooking," he muttered as he drank.

"_What? _" The dog leaned forward on the table, eyes bulging unattractively as her fur, incredibly, puffed out even more. "That ass dared to mess up _my_ kitchen? After all the hard work I went to, making it so disorganized no one could find anything, but _I'd_ always know where everything was? And he tried to cook, too?"

For a moment it seemed she was going to launch into a blistering tirade—but then, unexpectedly, she started laughing uproariously. Before he could wax eloquent on Shifu's failure as a chef, however, and thus ensure her good humor eclipsed her righteous ire, the sound of scraping claws on the cobblestones reached his ears, and he turned to see Hu and Huo coming in their direction.

Well, he could see Huo; his son was practically buried under the bags of potatoes and rice he was carrying, though to his credit the strength he'd inherited from his parents was letting him hoist the vegetables with ease. He needed his sister, however, to keep him from tripping and guide him in the right direction.

"Goodness! You _did_ manage it...what a strapping son I've got!" He got up from his chair and leaned down to scoop the bag of potatoes out of Hu's arms, grinning; he was partly playing to the boy's vanity, but he was also genuinely proud of the lad.

"You sure do, Baba!" The tiger grinned back at him, setting down the sack of rice so he could puff out his chest and brace his fists on his hips.

"Strength isn't everything," Huo sniffed, even if Tai Lung thought he noticed a gleam of admiration in her ruby eyes. "And I brought everything you asked for too, Baba."

He smiled as he took the basket from her, examining the bottles and jars she'd purchased. "You most certainly did, _xiǎo jiāhuo_."

Behind him there was a cough, and he froze. "Well? Aren't ya gonna introduce me to your kids, Master Tai?"

Slowly he turned to see Lin still sitting there, puffing idly on her pipe, surrounded by smoke for all the world as if she were Oogway doing his tai chi in the morning mist. Her expression was friendly, even sweet—which worried him all the more.

"Who's that?" Hu, perhaps sensing his father's disquiet or maybe simply bothered by the smoke, curled his lip skeptically and scrunched up his nose.

There was nothing else for it. "This is Mistress Lin." He knew she would hate that title being applied to her, which was precisely why he used it. "She's an old friend of the family." He placed particular emphasis on 'old'.

The only indication that she was peeved was the slight frizzing and fluffing of her tail; otherwise the dog only smiled at his cubs and waved her free hand. "Hiya, kids! Yup, me and your daddy go _way_ back."

"And this is my son Hu, and my daughter Huo," Tai Lung continued with forced pleasantness. "Say hello to the nice lady."

His cubs exchanged a confused, uncertain look. Then his son spoke up. "Uh...is she supposed to look like a featherduster, Baba?"

As the snow leopard stifled a guffaw, Lin merely chuckled. "That's my day job, kid," she confided dryly, with a conspiratorial look.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, _nǚshì_," Huo intoned, carefully and formally, as she did a proper bow. "Did you know Yeh-Yeh Shifu, too?"

"'Yeh-Yeh Shifu'. That's cute, have to remember that one...oh yes, you better believe I did. Though not half so well as I'd like to 'know' him..."

Before Lin could explain precisely what she meant by that suggestive turn of phrase, Tai Lung intervened. "Yes, well, anyway, I do believe there were some more items to get from that list..."

Hu interrupted him, apparently having gotten over his initial distrust and instead hopping up and down excitedly. "So, like, you knew our Baba and stuff? What was he like, was he as cool then as he is now? Tellmetellmetellme!"

Tai Lung closed his eyes and held back a groan, silently praying Lin would have mercy on him yet knowing she would not. Yet to his utter astonishment, the dog only said, "He sure was, coolest cat I ever met. Brave, and strong, and dedicated as anything. And you know what?" He opened his eyes and saw her leaning down to wink at the boy. "He looked just like you, kid."

"Really?" Hu's eyes were wide. "You mean...I'm gonna get as big as Baba?"

"You just might. From what I recall, he grew real fast." She glanced sidelong at him. "Had a growth chart in the kitchen for him and everything...wonder if it's still there."

"It is," the master of the Jade Palace replied, his voice thick and a bit rough with emotion. After he'd reconciled with Shifu, while he was preparing meals for the convalescing Dragon Warrior, he'd made it a point to check. "In fact we kept using it, even after you...left."

"Really?" Lin echoed his son. "That musta been a sight to see, once you started really hitting your growth spurt."

"Actually it was." Tai Lung chuckled, softly at first and then louder. "Picture it: me, at age twelve or thirteen, already twice as tall as Shifu, only to grow several more inches every week. Him, having to stand on a chair to reach my head, or even climb up me and perch on my shoulder while he marked the jamb. Once I was three or four times his size, and he was actually dangling off of me, he decided to call it quits." He paused meaningfully. "Oddly enough, I wanted him to keep it up."

Hu collapsed in a fit of giggles. Huo, meanwhile, raised an eyebrow. "That's funny, I didn't think Yeh-Yeh even went in the kitchen any more. Mama says he was more than happy to stop cooking once Uncle Po moved into the palace—he was never very good at it."

"No surprise there," Lin murmured. "But I can sure tell you what he _is_ good at—"

"Well luckily for you two," Tai Lung swiftly cut her off, "you won't ever have to sample one of his meals yourself. In fact you'll be having one of Mama's best recipes tonight. That is, if you pick up the right ingredients for Baba." He looked at his son. "A big sack of onions, a bushel of mushrooms, and as much bamboo as you can carry." He eyed his bright-eyed snow leopard girl. "Lemon pepper, mustard greens, and oyster sauce." He handed each of them another pouch of coins. "Now off with you!"

When both cubs had vanished into the marketplace again, Lin sat back in her chair in a huff. "What was _that_ all about? If I didn't know better, I'd think ya didn't want me around your kids."

"Lin, you're smart, talented, funny, and reliable, and I love you," Tai Lung said with complete honesty. "But no, I don't want you around them any more than necessary. Not until I can be sure."

"Sure of what?" she snapped. "That I won't hurt 'em? C'mon, you gotta know me better than that, I _love _kids!" He gave her a sardonic look. "Okay, fine, maybe I didn't used ta, but I made an exception for you, and now for your kids. See, I have too changed!"

He nodded in acknowledgement. "Of course I didn't think that. It's just—"

"You're afraid I'm gonna spill the beans about ya, all your dirty secrets?" The canine snorted. "I thought about it, but I ain't gonna ruin this good thing you've got going here. I only told 'em good things about ya!"

"Yes, and I deeply appreciate that, believe me. But—"

"But what?" she demanded.

"_But_, I am concerned about your language around them."

Lin blinked. "What're ya talking about? My language is as damned good as anyone else's."

He shot her a glare. "I rest my case. I was subjected to your exceedingly foul mouth growing up, to my detriment I think. Not to mention a number of extremely inappropriate adult matters. _My_ children will be spared."

Now it was her turn to give him a dirty look. "I seem to remember some rather nasty words falling from your rosebud lips a little while ago."

"Yes, but I know better than to use them around children," he shot back.

"And what's this about too much adult stuff? All my stories to you were age-appropriate and everything!" For a wonder she actually sounded offended.

"One word, Lin: grundle."

"_Oh_." Her ears flattened. "Okay, fine, I'll be more careful 'round 'em. But I mean really, there's gotta be other people who curse and make raunchy jokes near your cubs, even when they try not to. Shifu's no sweet angel, in case ya forgot. And I've heard tales about your Master Mantis."

Tai Lung sighed; she had a point, but this was one battle he was _not _going to lose. "Shifu may curse more than he used to—and that's all thanks to you, by the by—but not_ that _much. And as for Mantis, we don't even let the twins stay with him very often. I am _not_ having them corrupted."

"With you and the company you keep? Yeah, good luck with that." She snorted.

"Hope springs eternal."

"Bullshit does, you mean." Puffing on her pipe, Lin abruptly changed the subject—something he knew for a fact she did whenever she had lost an argument and knew it. "So, any particular reason you're sending your kids off to do all the legwork for ya? Other than so you can spend more time talking to yours truly, I mean."

Tai Lung took another sip of tea, noticed it had begun to grow cold, and unobtrusively warmed it again with his _chi_. "That's easy: I want my children to feel useful, that they can help their Baba with his chores instead of merely being dragged along for babysitting. Sending them to fetch items for me shows them I trust them, which means they'll be less likely to disobey if I tell them they can't have something." He paused. "It also keeps them out of trouble."

"Clever." He beamed, as that was rather high praise coming from Lin. "But what was all that about your wife doing the cooking tonight? You telling me you've turned Master Tigress, of all people, into an obedient housekeeper? Tai Lung, I'm disappointed in you."

The snow leopard's smile vanished, and he growled; now he was the offended one. "First off, _gods_ no. She would have slit my throat, skinned me, worn my pelt as a trophy, and stuffed my belly with hot coals before she'd do such a thing—and that's just for starters."

Lin raised both eyebrows, clearly impressed. "Well, that's better. Otherwise I would've had to kill ya."

"And maybe at one time I might have wanted such a thing. Not any more. She is my mate, my equal, and in many ways my superior. I love her just the way she is and would never change that." Nodding firmly, he chuckled. "Besides, while she may be cooking tonight, the reason I'm watching the cubs and doing the shopping is so she can keep training in the kwoon. And anyway, we divide the duties."

"You do?" The dog blinked again. "You mean...?"

"That's right. She cooks, but so do I."

Lin started laughing again. "This just keeps getting richer all the time! One of the last things I told Shifu was that one of you needed to learn how to cook. You saying you both did?"

He grinned smugly, leaning back in his chair. "But I'm much better at it than he is. Thanks to Po, and my instructor Dalang."

Now her laughter turned into a cough as she choked on her tobacco smoke. Hurriedly he leaned forward to pound—gently—on her back, helping her clear out her lungs. When she could finally breathe properly again, she stared up at him with watering eyes. "D-dalang? _Jiao_ Dalang?"

"Why, yes." Tai Lung frowned, a worry growing in the back of his mind; if Lin and Dalang were old friends, he had a strong feeling he would regret her return to the Valley for many reasons...and that he'd need to get her out of it again as soon as possible. "You know him?"

"Sort of. I ate at his restaurant once, when I was passing through Hebei." She shook her head. "What a small world...well in that case, I can believe ya got to be a real good cook. His food was, well, extraordinary, and just from that one meeting, I could tell he had a love for cooking that was almost holy. But I don't envy you learning in his kitchen." She tutted under her breath as she fished out her tobacco pouch for more fuel for her pipe. "I saw how he was running things with his staff there—that boy really needs to lighten up."

The spotted feline stared at her—not because he disagreed with her, in fact he thought her points were right on the money, but because of the sheer hypocrisy of that last statement. Leaning forward on one elbow, he pointed his finger accusingly at her. "That's hilarious, coming from you. I seem to recall _you_ being rather harsh in your own kitchen. I suppose it takes one to know one?"

"That was only with Shifu, an entirely different matter," Lin said loftily. "Besides, consistency is a mark of a small mind."

"Is that bullshit I'm smelling?" _Score another for my side!_

She ignored that, of course. "Funny you should mention Dalang though, it's actually his father I knew better."

"General Shen?" Tai Lung furrowed his brow, momentarily forgetting the victory he'd been savoring.

"Oh, is he a general now? Always knew he'd claw his way up the ranks soon enough. He was a captain when I knew him."

"You knew a captain of the emperor's guard?" He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Well, not like we moved in the same circles or something. He was in charge of the enforcers who were huntin' me down for speaking out against the emperor and the government. Relentless as hell and twice as stubborn. Had a stick up his ass like you wouldn't believe, way bigger than Shifu's. And between you and me, that's saying something, the gerbil had such a tight—"

"_Ugh!_ " Tai Lung clapped his paws over his ears. "Please, in the name of decency—"

But she went right on anyway. "Decency, what's that? Anyway, I got him to loosen right up, though. You know me and my charming ways. And then I was the one loosening up, if you know what I mean." She waggled her eyebrows.

The snow leopard's jaw dropped; he'd never felt so scandalized, not since that night sorting through Oogway's room. Even Mantis at his worst and De's assignations couldn't top this. "Are you seriously telling me...?"

"Yup, yup." Lin grinned and stretched her arms over her head, making her joints pop gruesomely. "I banged him, he banged me...and lemme tell ya, I thought Bengals were something, but you ain't truly lived 'til you've done it with an Amur. Hoo-boy! _Epic! _" She winked bawdily. "And that's how I got out of China and got him off my trail. He was glad to look the other way, after I was through riding him."

Tai Lung stared at her in abject horror, jaw still hanging, paws spread limply on the table before him, his whole form sagging. _Is this what a broken brain feels like? _He didn't know which disturbed him more—the idea of Lin in a sexual situation at all, the sheer impossibility of the size difference, or the fact she'd used such a way to cheat the system and evade capture and execution. All he knew was, he was speechless.

After several long moments during which the dog gazed at him with a bland, beatific expression, Lin finally burst out laughing yet again, slapped her leg, and pointed at him. "Hah! Had ya goin' there, didn't I? Oh God, that was priceless! I wish you could've seen your face fall off the front of your head like that...you are _so_ gullible!"

With a low moan he fell forward on his arms, burying his face in his paws. _Why did I ever let this woman beat me with a spoon? _

Luckily for him, at that moment Hu and Huo reappeared, laden down with their new burden of produce and spices. Desperately thanking the gods and Oogway alike, he spent a number of minutes meticulously going through their purchases, stowing them in the proper baskets and pouches, and praising the strength and smarts of his cubs in equal measure. Only when he had fished out more yuan and sent them off to pick up asparagus, oranges, basil, and tofu did he dare to turn back to Lin.

Gathering his scattered wits, he did the only thing he could think of to expunge those images from his mind and get her mind out of the gutter—ask a serious question. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you. Something very important."

"And that would be?" She was still grinning openly.

He leaned forward, intent. "When we met on that mountain, was that all chance? Did you just happen to be heading to Wei-Shan's the same time I was returning to the Valley, or did you plan the whole thing?"

Lin sighed, inhaled deeply from her pipe, coughed, and then looked him straight in the eye. "Yeah, I did. But you know why? I had no way of knowing you were gonna escape, of course. I was traveling that way...because I was coming to visit ya. After I found out from Chen—the artist, not the emperor—where you were being held, and that nobody had been to see ya, or ever even bothered to, I knew I had to come.

"Because no matter what you'd done and why, it wasn't right you be all shut up in the dark like that. It was stupid, and cruel, and horrible that Shifu and Oogway never came to see ya. That was no way for them to treat ya, especially if they wanted ya to change your tune and be a good guy again. I knew ya wouldn't be happy to see me, after how I left and all...but I figured even one familiar face, one ya knew used to care, would be better than nothing."

It was the last thing he'd expected from her—a long speech, and one so heartfelt and genuine. And it did make up, even if only a little, for the pain of those long years of abandonment, even for some of the loneliness and torture of his confinement. Swallowing hard against a large lump in his throat, he rumbled softly. "Thank you. I...I've come to terms with why they didn't visit me, I understand it now. To an extent I brought it on myself—rampaging like that, then never showing any sign of repentance. I forgave them. But...I appreciate what you tried to do all the same."

"That's good to hear, Tai Lung." She blew a smoke-ring, then added, "Now stop tearing up. You're a grown man."

Hurriedly he wiped away the tears that had formed, then crossed his arms huffily. "If you'd rather I be a heartless monster..."

"Naw, of course not, I was only teasing ya." Lin smiled. "Actually, I'm glad ya didn't mean up too much."

"I meaned up enough," he murmured. He didn't know if she'd heard him.

"Now, if only that blunderbuss had let ya test his rules and boundaries more often," the dog added caustically, "maybe ya wouldn't have rampaged."

"Maybe if you'd been here I wouldn't have anyway." Tai Lung couldn't keep the accusing note out of his voice.

Lin rolled her eyes. "Get bent. Don't blame your own mistakes on me, you're the one who flipped. I _told_ ya you can't always get what you want." She shrugged. "Besides, between my attitude toward authority and my chaotic personality, I woulda been a bad role model for ya anyway."

She had a very good point. "Fine. But I still wish you'd been here, regardless."

The dog smiled at him, and he saw that beneath her thick fur, she was actually blushing. "That's sweet, but you gotta be independent. Don't blame me, but also don't expect me to do everything for ya. Learn and do it yourself." It was amazing how reasonable and wise she could sound, when she wasn't being deliberately insensitive, antagonizing, or perverted.

"Tell me something I don't know." He felt like he was seven years old again.

"No thanks, I don't got all day to gab with ya."

Tai Lung stared at her, a smoldering fury starting to grow inside him as he realized what exactly she was implying with that statement. _Next thing I know, she'll be complimenting the twins' intelligence and saying they must get it from their mother! _But he forced his anger down and cast his mind back to what they'd been discussing before she'd led him on about Dalang's father—namely, that he still didn't know how or if she'd escaped the warrant against her. "Why is that? Is there somewhere you have to be? One brief stop here before you go gallivanting off again?" He allowed a bit of concern to bleed into his voice. "Or are you still wanted by the law?"

Lin shook her head. "Nah, Wei-Shan helped me get that straightened out. The emperor agreed to leave me in peace, since I'm just an old woman who won't be doing any more rabble-rousing, and I agreed not to speak out against the government any more. And why would I?" She leaned back in her chair.

"Most of the stuff I had issues with was done by his father, and he's phased a lotta that out. He was after me 'cause I was stirring up trouble when he was trying to make things peaceful and prosperous for everyone—in fact he agreed with me on most of what I was saying, and he's been carrying out true justice and being fair to the lower classes all that time I was gone from China. I don't like the Imperial system, but if you're gonna have one, the least you can do is have a good emperor. And Chen's an okay guy."

She paused, then grinned slyly at him. "Not to mention, he's a real stud. Bigger than Shen, and I bet that has his panties in a real twist."

A pause; then Tai Lung groaned again...but he also had to laugh. "You're incorrigible."

"Thank you. Now, don't worry," Lin reassured him, reaching across to pat his paw. "I bet you're bigger than both of them put together."

"Well, I don't like to brag..." he lied...then held his paws up the requisite distance apart.

Lin gasped. "See, I _told_ Shifu you knew what to do with your—"

"You did _not_!" He felt his cheeks go crimson.

"I most certainly did. He was too much of a prude to listen, of course, but I told him how precocious you were. Why I bet when you finally got to use it, you were a real—"

At that moment Hu reappeared again. "What're you talking about now?" the tiger cub asked curiously as he set down the basket of oranges and bundle of asparagus. "Still goin' on about how big Baba is?" If he'd been drinking, Tai Lung would have choked on his tea.

"Something like that," Lin replied, trying very hard not to laugh. "Actually, more like how much he's changed and all that."

"Speaking of change, you should have just enough left to pick up some broccoli and peas. After you and your sister get back, we can go to the next place on our list." He was amazed at how normal his voice sounded.

Once his son had bounded off again, and Tai Lung had arranged all the various goods in different baskets and sacks so that he could more readily carry them for the return trip, he glanced at Lin pointedly. "I thought you said I hadn't changed."

"Oh, you've definitely changed." When he gave her a confused look, she added, "I meant your eyes. They're a lot more gold than they used to be." He flattened his ears, but he supposed he should be grateful she wasn't going on about his moustache or his age again. But then she spoke again and surprised him. "And I see something different in 'em. There was all that rage and revenge in 'em before, when you wanted that scroll so bad, but now...I dunno. You look happy, Tai Lung. Happier even than when you were a cub, I mean. I like it."

Slowly he drained the last of his tea, set the cup down on the saucer, and smiled at her softly. "I am. I finally have everything I want, everything I need. It wasn't what I thought...but it is right, and good. I never realized how precious an ordinary life can be."

Lin considered that, drawing deeply from her pipe, while Tai Lung reflected that perhaps he'd been wrong to be so worried about her—for no matter how deviant and inappropriate her comments, she'd always cut herself off whenever Hu or Huo appeared, keeping their young minds from being overwhelmed too soon. Then she spoke again. "You really love your kids, don'tcha?"

"Of course I do, they mean everything to me." He smiled slowly. "What can I say, you showed me how important it is to nurture seeds. It took me over twenty years, but I've finally learned to do it."

"Who woulda guessed, huh? But I'm proud of ya, ya big galoot. Ya make a real fine dad."

"Thank you, but I also meant that literally. After I defeated Chao, one of the things I did while healing was replanting our old garden. It's flourishing quite well." _Nothing wrong with growing things_, he thought defensively, at the part of himself that still wanted to write the whole thing off as something a true man would never do. _As Shifu said...I've done enough destroying. Time to plant and create. _

Lin was smiling warmly at him again. "Now that's the Tai Lung I knew."

"Well, they do say gardening is soothing and therapeutic. And Shifu basically ordered me to take up a hobby to help me relax that didn't involve having to constantly pay for repairs to the kwoon."

She smirked, a bit maliciously. "He actually said that? The slave-driver master of kung fu? I guess things have changed more around here than I ever thought possible." As the last of her tobacco burned out, she tapped the leavings from the pipe and slipped it back into her sleeve. "So, what now?"

He paused, having run out of things to talk about—and smiled broadly at her. "Roll in the mud and beat each other with sticks?"

Once again, Lin burst out laughing, and this time it was one of the best sounds he'd ever heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tai Lung's thought about Shifu being "right there in his face" is a reference to KFP2 and how he seemingly could teleport to escape Po's hug. Tai Lung's thought for alternate names for his son, "fighter" and "mountain", are shout-outs to the names Luna gave Tai's son in her Taigress Mix and the "Present" 'verse: Zhan Shi and Tai Shan, respectively. No, I am not mocking them, I think they're both wonderful and fitting names. Just showing why my Tai Lung, who sees things a little differently than Luna's versions, would choose a different name for his son.
> 
> Also so you know, the bit with the romance novel Tai Lung was reading was not me writing such gushy, over-the-top Purple Prose because I thought that was beautiful, splendid writing for your edification, but as a form of Stylistic Suck. Despite how verbose and sesquipedalian my writing can be, I wanted to show I do know the difference between that and truly atrocious tripe. I hope I succeeded. And after all, I did fit in a bit more Self Parody, since Tai Lung also reflects that the scroll telling the events of the first movie and the romance novel were written by 'terrible writers'...but of course both were actually written by...me. :P
> 
> Lin, I confess, was a case of me going hog-wild and having a great deal of fun with the character, hence the length of this vignette. Marie gave her permission for the use, and was tickled pink with what I did with her. ^_^


	3. Father Knows Best?

Soon enough, however, both Hu and Huo returned from their last excursions, at which point they began to inquire about their promised reward. So, after fetching the proper cuts of fish from his usual vendor (particularly salmon), as well as certain choice seafood, Tai Lung announced they would make one more stop—Ning Guo's apothecary, for the herbs Tigress, Monkey, and himself needed.

Despite how much pleasure he had ultimately gotten from his time with Lin, he had hoped she would go off on her own after this; she was definitely a person who was better experienced in small doses, and he was very much afraid the longer she hung around, the more likely she would accidentally slip up and say something she shouldn't around the twins. But for some vague and mysterious reason she would not identify, the former Jade Palace cook insisted on accompanying them through the winding streets, saying she had business at Ning's as well.

Even more worried at the prospect of both the goat and Lin being around his children at the same time, Tai Lung once again decided to kill two birds with one stone, telling Hu and Huo they had done such a good job with the shopping that until he was finished, they could rest and play in a village park right across from Ning's shop, where a small stream meandered through the grasses and numerous benches were strewn about for parents to sit and watch over their young ones. There were a number of them there now, and as long as such adult supervision was there, he knew the twins and the other village children could play together safely.

But things took a very unexpected turn after that.

Ning Guo's shop, of course, was unchanged and unchangeable. It was also seemingly empty, as it had been the night he'd first visited it—and he knew for a fact that, wherever the goat might be concealing himself, he was the only person in the apothecary's since, when he'd picked up the cubs at the training hall, he'd made it a point to be quite certain Mantis was staying on the mountain today. And Tigress had taken pity on him by relating her shopping list to him in a murmur so that the insect had not heard of Tai Lung being directed to fetch herbs—as she herself had said, because the only one allowed to tease and mock him was his wife. Despite this being the case, however, he soon discovered that having Lin with him was not only just as bad, it was worse.

"Master Ning? Where are you, you old fossil? You've got a customer!" He slapped a paw on the wooden counter.

Immediately the goat popped up out of nowhere from behind a pile of dusty crates, a warm but naughty grin on his bearded face as the voice told him just who his customer was. "Well well, if it isn't the master of the Jade Palace, descending from on high to mingle with us peasants!" Then he noticed the dog beside Tai Lung. "Lin? You know this scoundrel?"

Before the spotted cat could even hazard a guess as to how and why the two old people knew each other (other than a vague notion that everyone their age were honorary members of some "old people's society"), he received his answer—far more than he had ever bargained for. For Ning Guo hurried around the counter to greet the canine...only to sweep her in his arms and plant a lusty kiss right on her muzzle. And just as startling, not only did Lin let him, her good hand was soon gripping and squeezing the goat's backside!

Tai Lung spread his paws in abject supplication, jaw hanging once again in stunned horror. "Wh-what? You...and her...you..." _That's disgusting! _

While he was still staring, Lin's knee lifted and jabbed hard toward Ning Guo's groin. With surprising speed for a man his age, he twisted and jerked nimbly away—clearly he was familiar with the dog's usual reaction to being kissed by a man, as if the snow leopard needed any more confirmation of how well they knew each other.

"Sorry, force of habit," Lin said mildly, not sounding it at all. "Thought you were Shifu."

Ning made a faint gagging noise. "Oh gods, I'm much handsomer than he is."

"Well, your head's smaller anyway," she observed critically. "Especially your ears."

"So glad you noticed." His dry tone couldn't conceal a barely restrained laugh.

Lin smiled lewdly. "And you've got a bigger—"

"Have you _no shame_?" Tai Lung burst out.

The dog turned and looked at him with raised eyebrows. "Oh I'm sorry, were you still here? I forgot." Glancing back at Ning, she chuckled, answering his earlier question. "Yup, I'm afraid I do know him. He never was the goody-two-shoes he pretended to be, way more worldly than Shifu—but that ain't saying much."

"D'you mind?" the cat in question snapped.

"What? We always say the worst about those we love. Keeps 'em honest." Brushing her worn tunic and pants smooth, she nudged the caprine in the side. "Anyway, I think Whiskers here has need of your services. Which, if I know anything about what you sell, has something to do with the bedroom."

As said whiskers were twitching and bristling violently on Tai Lung's face, Ning Guo turned and looked at him too, smiled, then moved back behind the counter to fetch his mortar and pestle. "Right in one, m'dear. _This_ one has been to see me regularly for the past seven years—I could practically live off him alone! The way he and his better half go at it, you'd think they were related to Mrs. Liu."

Lin leaned on the counter and smiled evilly. "I ain't surprised. I've already told him once today I was sure he had some prime real estate below the belt, and this just proves it. I'm guessing, unless he's real religious about taking those herbs, he's gonna have a lot more than two sprouts in his garden."

At any other time he would have been extremely smug and cocky at this praise, albeit a mite scandalized by the blatant raunchiness of all the double-entendres. But the fact it was Lin saying these things robbed them of much of their ego-stroking...and he still could not expunge from his mind what he had seen and heard just prior.

"You randy old bastard! Enough with the hyperbole, you bloody well know we don't do it that much...anymore. Not since the twins were born. Anyway, it's just a precaution, we have enough on our plate as it is and I for one want to make sure everything gets done and no one is left out or neglected. So could you kindly dispense with the snide commentary and just get my order together? I know Tigress already sent Zeng ahead to let you know I was coming." He slapped the list of herbs down on the counter. "We _also_ need medical herbs, for our house's first aid kit and the palace's."

Lin crossed her arms reprovingly. "A little heavy on the tabasco, aren't ya? What did I tell ya about it being more polite to be nice to someone's face, even if ya hate 'em?"

"He's not giving me much to work with," the snow leopard said with biting sarcasm. "And what about you? I thought you were celibate."

She blinked. "What are you, an elephant to remember that?"

He chuckled mirthlessly. "I know one, he taught me the tricks of the trade."

"A girl can change her mind, can't she?" she said airily.

Tai Lung frowned thunderously. "And what about Shifu? Did you change your mind about him, too?"

Part of him, of course, simply wanted to watch and chow down on Po's shrimp dumplings for the fireworks that would go off as soon as his father encountered Lin again, but the rest of him actually was a bit hurt she seemed to have moved on. Granted, it had been over thirty years, and at the time he'd been just as hurt she had become so enamored of the red panda she seemingly forgot all about the child she'd admitted to loving as if he were her own. But all joking aside, it would be wonderful to see Shifu happy again, or at least livelier than he'd been in years...

To his surprise, the dog looked at him soberly for a few moments, sighed, and looked away. When she spoke it was just barely audible over the sounds of Ning silently crushing the herbs. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. I mean...lookit how long it's been. He's changed, I've changed. Even if he's forgiven me and doesn't throw me down the steps as soon as he lays eyes on me, we probably don't even fit any more. We've both moved on. Best I can hope for is that he still wants to be my friend." She paused, then managed a smirk. "Besides, he could never handle me anyway. I'm too much woman for him. Now, Ning here, on the other hand..."

The goat snorted. "Ning knows to keep that other hand off you till you're good and ready. And then he can do more with it than that panda can even dream of."

"Are you two _trying_ to make me gouge my eyes out?" Tai Lung demanded of empty air. Then he sighed. If nothing could be done about it, he had to accept it; and to be quite honest, it was actually a relief knowing he wouldn't have to have the old woman as a stepmother. It meant he'd have twice the headache to deal with whenever he came down to the apothecary's, at least until such time as Lin tired of the game and moved on to...greener pastures (whether with another man or just by leaving the Valley again), but perhaps he could convince Mantis to make deliveries, or someone else to do the shopping. And at least this freed up Shifu for—

Trying to force his voice to sound casual, he continued, "All right, and what about you, Master Ning? Are you also over your...past indiscretions?"

Crushing the last of the herbs, the goat eyed him sharply as he tipped the powder into an envelope. "If you are referring to your mother Jian, sonny, she is a fine woman, one of the best I have had the pleasure of meeting. But dinner and a quiet walk along the riverbank is the full extent of our relationship—there was not time for more, before she had to return to Qinghai. Perhaps, had she stayed, we might have taken things to the next step, but in all fairness, we got along best as friends.

"That woman has quite the head on her shoulders, she is strong, she knows how to get what she wants, and she was very sympathetic about the pangs of advancing age—whether aching joints and failing eyesight or seeing all your family and friends grow old and pass on. But she is not the woman for me." _Well, what do you know. Maybe I was wrong about him after all._

Ning smiled and went on. "I much prefer women like Lin here—a humor, mouth, and stubborn will like mine. Isn't that right, precious?"

Lin gagged. "Pardon me while I throw up a little in my mouth."

"The perfect flavor to go with your breath, dear."

"Bite me!"

"With relish. And I guess you meant what you said about liking it rough—and in public."

"You haven't really lived till you've roughed it. And what can I say, I think everyone has a right to see the merchandise before they buy it. If they can't afford my price...well, then they'd better get a good look while they can." She sashayed her hips provocatively—which thankfully Tai Lung only got a brief glimpse of before wrenching his gaze away, retching quietly.

Ning chuckled. "What are you talking about? _I_ can barely afford your price."

"And don't you forget it!" She grinned and leered at him. "But until ya run out, ya get life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, and all that jazz."

Finally Tai Lung found his voice again. "You've made your point. Quite vividly. You're an absolutely perfect match."

"Aww, ya say the sweetest things, kid," Lin said, at the exact same moment Ning blurted out, "Perish the thought, you take that back!"

After they looked at each other suspiciously for several moments, the goat went on, "Well, I suppose we do fit in one other way—we're the same size." Just as the snow leopard was about to let out a small sigh, relieved that he had been worried for nothing, that bearded face split in a sly grin. "Though I do pine for Jian on occasion. After all, I can personally attest to size not mattering...and it was absolutely marvelous being waist-height."

"_AUGH! _That's it!" _I **knew **I never should have brought the subject up! _Grabbing the envelope of 'medicine soup', then scooping up the rest of his order which Ning had brought out from under the counter having prepared it in advance, Tai Lung wheeled about on Lin. "Now that I've been scarred for life and won't be able to keep anything down for the rest of the day—"

"I thought I told ya to stop being a sourpuss," she cut in.

"But I _really_ didn't need to hear that!"

"And a whiner," Lin added. "Anyway, I just wanted to say one last thing."

He braced himself, because if he knew Lin, her 'heartfelt parting' would singe his ears and turn his stomach even more; they always seemed to for Shifu, and while at the time Oogway had opined the panda was aggravating his ulcers over nothing, Tai Lung was beginning to understand just why the two 'lovebirds' had come so close to killing each other. "Yes?"

The former cook smiled benignly up at his wary face. "Congratulations on making master of the Jade Palace. Like I said, I'm proud of ya. Always said you could do whatever ya set your mind to, and even if it wasn't that scroll ya wanted, ya get to lead the finest warriors in the country, and fight alongside the guy who _did_ get the scroll. Not too shabby." She paused, then reached up to jab a finger into his stomach. "Don't get too complacent though, or you're gonna get flabby like ol' Pudge up there."

He stared at her, aghast, wondering how much she had heard about Po and his rich meals, or if she'd been talking to Mantis about the supposed laziness of his cushy new job. Then he buried his face in his palm again and turned away. _I...am not...**FAT**!_

Without another word, Tai Lung departed the shop. But as he fled for the park to fetch his cubs so that they could make their last stop of the day, he realized he had at least one consolation from all this, aside from knowing his mother was free of Ning Guo's salacious clutches: he had some wonderful ammunition regarding just whom Shifu's old flame was now seeing. _That ought to...get his goat_.

* * *

With all the time that had been spent catching up with Lin, and then visiting the apothecary's, it was already late afternoon by the time Tai Lung and the cubs were standing in the cobbled street beneath the awning of the final store they had to visit. Luckily he'd been so engrossed in mending fences, exchanging poisonous but wonderfully witty barbs, and keeping his children from overhearing anything perverted (or potentially embarrassing for himself), that his repeated missions for Hu and Huo had resulted in the vast majority of the shopping list being purchased already. Having already bought the fish and seafood, he'd only had to find a few last items—which left him ready at last to give his extremely well-behaved cubs the reward they deserved.

They were still trying to be so good about it, but he knew how badly they wanted this. Well, Hu was rather obvious about it, bouncing on the balls of his feet, lashing his striped tail excitedly, and looking positively giddy, while his sister remained calm, prim, and sedate—but he could see in her twinkling ruby eyes that she was just as excited as her brother.

Affecting reluctance, he placed a paw to his chin and regarded each of them in turn. "Hmmm...I wonder what you two little hellions could want..."

The snow leopardess looked as innocent and harmless as could be. "Want? We don't want anything, helping our honored father is its own reward." The gravity and solemnity of her words and tone would have given Oogway a run for his money—and was also just as secretively facetious.

"Right. Tell me another one. You might be able to pull that with Po, but it won't _ever_ work with me." Tai Lung regarded his son sardonically, whose nearly frantic motions put the lie to Huo's words. Then he smiled warmly. "You want sweets, don't you?"

Immediately Hu stopped bouncing and adopted a serious, intent look. "No, Baba. Sweets are bad for our teeth, and we'd never ask for special treatment." His words had the definite singsong of rote memorization.

"Well, that's very polite and proper of you, but are you sure...?" He dragged out the last word.

A spotted ear flicked, and then his daughter narrowed her eyes. "But you won't let Yeh-Yeh Shifu buy them for us."

"That's entirely different; _he_ spoils you." He curled his lip, then turned it into a proud smile. "_This_ would be a reward for a job well done. You're old enough now, you can have such things as long as you don't overdo it. And you were so good today, helping me with the groceries and all, more than usual even. Hard work is its own reward—you don't ask for things to be handed to you, you _earn_ them." He looked from one cub to the other, made sure the value of the lesson had sunk in, and then grinned. "You get doubles today. Just don't mention this to your mother."

Huo's coy response of "Tell Mama what?" was nearly drowned out by her brother's cheers, and Tai Lung couldn't help but laugh openly and affectionately as both of them leaped into his arms, hugging him tightly and showering him with kisses (though his daughter's still managed to be dainty somehow) before scrambling for the door of the candy store. He shook his head slowly, chuckling to himself—they were so easy to get to behave, if you knew what you were doing, but it also felt so good to bring them such joy and excitement—before following them inside.

A bell rang over the store's lintel, announcing his entry, and he had to fight back a surge of his own eager anticipation as those heavenly aromas assailed him. Licking suddenly moist lips, he peered about the cool, dim interior of the shop. Everywhere he looked, whether behind counters, under glass, in bins, or displayed in bags on shelves, there were sweets—syrup-coated cookies, fruits and hardened jellies, spun sugar, pastries, glazed nuts, agar, ices, honeyed _táng_... The list went on and on, and the more he looked and smelled, the more his mouth watered. He fought back a moan.

"Oh, hello, Master Tai Lung. I thought I heard someone enjoying themselves a bit too much out here, if you know what I mean, so I knew it had to be you." This sudden, wry greeting came, of course, from the store clerk who had appeared out of nowhere from the dim shadows behind the counter. As always, the horse, a deep red roan with a chestnut, almost auburn, mane that had begun to show traces of gray to give his chin-hair a salt-and-pepper look, was dressed comfortably in the local _hanfu_ with an apron tied atop it. Also as always, his dark eyes were alight with a barely veiled amusement. "Hey there, kiddos."

Hu looked ready to leap up like an advanced Dragon practitioner so he could bound over the counter and scramble up the equine's softly rounded gut. He certainly hopped across the floor with an endearing rush of energy...something else, Tai Lung recalled with a faint blush, he'd inherited from his father. "Mister Le, Mister Le! Are you gonna do it, are ya gonna make the _yinsitang _today, huh, huh?"

"Whoa, slow down, squirt!" The horse held out both hands to calm him down.

Unsurprisingly Hu immediately froze in place, posting his fists on his hips and looking mortally offended. "I'm not a squirt! I'm big, bigger every day, and I'm gonna be as big as Baba someday!"

Meanwhile, his sister was by contrast standing as sedate and well-behaved as ever, spotted tail curled around her body with artful poise as she bowed to the clerk. "Don't listen to him, he spends far too much time with Uncle Po. And no matter how big he gets, he'll always be my kitten brother." She smirked as Hu fumed and spluttered. "But yes, _jù jiàng_, will you be making it for us?"

Le chuckled and threw his hands up in mock-defeat. "_Yes_, I've got the sugar right here, just been waiting for you two balls of fluff to come in and watch me make it."

As a chorus of excited, wild cheering erupted and drowned out any further words, Tai Lung had to grin and slowly shake his head. Only his proper, formal daughter would think to call a candy-store clerk a 'master craftsman' as a way to one-up her brother...although considering some of the mouth-watering delicacies he had created in the past, perhaps that appellation was correct for Master Le after all.

The snow leopard watched as the horse fetched the block of hardened sugar and syrup from the cold storage closet where it had been chilling in ice. As Le placed it in a bowl of flour he brought from the kitchen, set it on another, lower counter, and began rolling, kneading, stretching, and twisting the sticky torus into layer upon layer of sweet strands to the delight of the two avidly watching cubs, Tai Lung reflected on just how the gods (or Oogway) had been enjoying themselves the day he and the horse had met.

When he'd been purchasing sweets and other gifts to woo Tigress, Tai Lung had made it a point not to visit the store where Shifu had taken him as a cub—too many memories, too at odds with what he had done and who he had become, and judging by the fact the clerk he _had _visited had been so frightened of him, he'd likely made the right choice. The horse who had waited on him all those years ago would have been just as terrified, and he hadn't needed another reminder of how badly he had burned his bridges with so many villagers. Plus, the whole episode was too embarrassing to revisit, as he'd made quite clear when Shifu had told the story on Wu Dan.

But after Chao's defeat, his being made Master of the Jade Palace, and his marriage to Tigress, there had seemed little reason to avoid the place any longer—everyone had come to accept him, even trust him, and he had to admit he was curious if the proprietor was the same, if he would even be remembered at all. And after indulging in custard with Po, and sitting in Viper's room bitterly relating how Tigress had rejected much of the candy he'd given her so that they had to sullenly eat it themselves to keep it from going to waste, his sweet tooth had been well and truly resurrected.

What he'd discovered when returning to the store of his cubhood was both unsurprising and unexpected at the same time. On the one paw, the horse who'd run it over thirty years ago was of course now far too aged to do so, having retired at some point while he was in prison; his son, Le, ran the place now. However, despite the fact he'd been born after Tai Lung was too old to be caught dead visiting such a childish establishment, he actually knew precisely who the snow leopard was. Not the Dragon Warrior hopeful, nor the scourge of the Valley—at least, not only these things—but as the now-grown energetic ball of fluff _he'd_ been when begging for sweets all those years ago.

Le had forgiven him of the rampage for the same reason the rest of the Valley had...but his knowledge of who Tai Lung had once been came from the stories of his father. Which meant that even though the old horse was no longer there to wait on him, instead playing mahjong all day or praying to his ancestor tablets, every time the snow leopard visited the candy store he was still teased and regaled with the mortifying exploits of his adorable cubhood self. He only put up with it because of how genuinely fond Hu and Huo were of the fellow (and vice versa), the fact he promised not to embarrass him in front of anyone from the Jade Palace...and of course, one other very secret reason, something private and special that stayed only between them...

"There you go," the horse finally said at last with a satisfied grunt, interrupting Tai Lung's rather furtive thoughts. He finished stretching and folding over the last of the elastic candy, wrapping it in soft layers of waxed tissue and handing it to the gleefully impatient cubs. "A double order of dragon's beard for each of you."

While Huo took hers with a delicate, fastidious air, Hu peeled open the tissue and began devouring his with fierce gusto. Muffled by his sugary mouthful, the tiger said, "Doesn't look much like Baba. He doesn't have a beard!"

Tai Lung laughed; though both his children knew he was not the Dragon Warrior and why, respected Po, and didn't see their father as any lesser for it, Hu liked to make gently ribbing jokes on the subject. Most of this came from mirroring him, of course, though some had been picked up from Mantis or Monkey. "Neither does your uncle Po, so don't get any big ideas. Now, pick out two more sweets, each of you, and then you can go wait outside and dig in while Baba pays the nice clerk. All right?"

Unsurprisingly, they each picked out a bamboo skewer of _tanghulu—shān zhā _(hawthorn) for Huo, oranges for Hu. The tiger also filled a basket with _gao_ while the snow leopardess picked out an assortment of ices and jellies, including the mint-like grass jelly _liangfen_—even when selecting sweets, his daughter was as health-conscious as her mother. When it had all been gathered and the horse thanked—properly and sweetly by Huo, with hasty excitement from Hu—the cubs hurried outside into the warm spring air to began their well-earned feast.

As Tai Lung began counting out stacks of coins on the counter, Le cleared his throat meaningfully. When the snow leopard looked up guardedly, the horse was smirking at him knowingly. "Well?"

Furtively he looked over his shoulder; on the other side of the sliding doors, he could see Hu and Huo through the glass, blissfully unaware as they suckled their sugary treats beneath the awning, gazing out at the bustling sunny streets. No one was watching...now was his chance...

Sliding the money across the counter, he whispered under cover of the clinking metal. "Do you have it? Everything I asked for?"

"I might," Le winked. "If you've got the money."

Hurriedly the snow leopard pulled out his extra cash string from where he'd had it concealed inside his shirt, on a thong around his neck. This he tossed onto the counter and shoved at the equine as well. "Of course! But I'll need you to extend the next order for an extra week, though. I've found it a damned sight difficult to slip any extra money out of the palace coffers thanks to Shifu. That bloody money-pincher..."

The candyseller chuckled and nodded in sympathy. "Well I guarantee you, it's worth every yuan. Finest in the land, and even from beyond our borders." And without further ado, he promptly yet deftly produced a heavy, carefully wrapped package of a dark brown, almost black hue—the perfect color and size to fit and blend into the bottom of his basket, and without any of the frills, ribbons, or telltale identifying marks which would have given its contents away.

Tai Lung snatched it away and hurriedly opened it—not because he didn't trust Le to have procured all the goods, but because he wouldn't have the chance to check it out-of-doors where anyone could spy what he had bought and catch him in the act. And, he had to admit, because he couldn't resist the divine flavors and aromas a moment longer. Gazing into the box, he purred throatily...pushed his muzzle forward to inhale deeply...even caressed the package possessively.

"Should I give you two a moment?" Le asked wryly.

"Shut up." Gently he lifted one of the delicacies contained within and popped it into his mouth—only to have it explode with flavor, the tart juices of the kumquat blending with its sweet rind and even sweeter coating of milky brown. _Gods...nothing can taste this good! Bless you Oogway, for bringing chocolate to the empire, you old nutter... _

Not that the turtle had literally introduced the dessert to China (at least, not so far as he knew). But it was due to him, or more specifically the recipe they'd found when cleaning out Oogway's room, that Tai Lung even knew what chocolate was at all, let alone desired it so greatly. Because of course, one of the first things Po had made for him after their night sharing custard together had been that very recipe.

Its milky sweetness had hooked him instantly, which was why he'd made sure that some of the candy he later bought for Tigress had been chocolate or chocolate-coated...because he'd fully expected her to reject him, which would have given him the opportunity to sample more of the delicious treat. Yes, he knew he was being a greedy bugger—he couldn't help it, it was just that irresistibly good! And now that he could come visit Le's store whenever he liked...as long as he could scavenge the money, and slip in unobserved, no one the wiser, his packages hidden...

By the time he had finished that piece of candy, Tai Lung was already fishing out another and another—chocolate filled with mint cream, chocolate filled with apricot jam, lychee nuts, roasted almonds, berries...each easily identifiable thanks to his love of sweets and the palate Dalang had trained in him. He was already reaching deeper into the box when the horse's hand on his paw stopped him.

"Whoa, whoa, don't eat 'em all before you even get out of the store! You've got to savor these...here, let me show you something else. They're rare in these parts, had to pull a few strings to get them, but they're an exclusive for you because you're my best customer."

What Le produced was what looked like an assortment of small tropical fruits...but when the snow leopard dubiously tried one, to his surprise it was not a fruit at all. Instead it was some sort of bean paste covered with hardened jelly, blended with sugar and some odd, milky flavor he couldn't quite identify—exotic but delicious too. "This is marvelous, what is it?"

"They call it Look Choob. That white stuff inside it is coconut. It comes from—"

"Siam." The spotted feline remembered now, he'd seen something like this before, long ago in the capital, when Oogway took him there as a youth. A display of foreign foods imported by the emperor. "My, you _have _gone afar."

The horse grinned cagily. "And that's not all. I've also got a brand new confection, just came out on the market." He handed Tai Lung an unremarkable piece of chocolate, shaped into a rectangular bar with hardened syrup swirled across it. When the snow leopard bit into it, however, he couldn't hold back the ecstatic moans—for the chocolate was not only stuffed with peanuts, it was also filled by a sweet, gooey liquid of decadently rich flavor that stretched and drooled in long strings.

Seeing the look on his face, Le chuckled in satisfaction. "And _that_, my friend, is caramel."

"Bloody unbelievable," Tai Lung mumbled. "It melts in my mouth..." A large part of the snow leopard couldn't help reflecting, as he eyed the horse carefully placing in his basket a smaller box holding nothing but more pieces of the heavenly caramel nut bars, that the proprietor was enjoying himself far too much...and that he in turn was a far-too-willing participant in his own corruption. Another part of him, amusingly, cursed inwardly at not having known of this place when he'd spoken with Zhuang at the Ghost Festival what seemed a lifetime ago—because if he had, the candy store and its divine products would have made a perfect comeback when the bull made that crack about brothels...

"It also melts in your hand," the candyseller noted critically, interrupting his blissful thoughts, and swiftly he stuffed the rest of the softening chocolate in his mouth and wiped his paw clean with a spare piece of waxed tissue.

"I don't know why these weren't for sale sooner, and everywhere," he observed, licking his lips, "but whoever thought of them could well become rich."

Le snickered. "Don't I wish! Anyway, you've given me more than enough to cover your order, Master Tai Lung. I've even thrown in some chocolate-covered strawberries from Japan, a little _daifuku_, and these really delicious cookies from Russia called _khvorost_—you'll love them." Scooping up the last of the coins and stowing them in the counter drawer, the equine smiled lopsidedly. "Now, if you're done drooling, I believe your cubs are getting antsy."

The master of the Jade Palace hurriedly looked over his shoulder to see Hu leaping rapidly up and down in place so he could see in the door's glass pane. He forced himself to give what he hoped was a disarming, fatherly smile as he quickly shoved the last package into the basket. "Damn. Impatient little scamps, bet they've already eaten all their sweets...all right, as I said, same time, two weeks from now." Hopefully, if he was lucky, no one had seen him go in or out of the candy store, or if they did hadn't realized he'd spent any more time than was necessary for his cubs to get their fill...

Shaking his maned head, the horse clasped his hands over his paunch and smiled. "Fine. Still don't get all the secrecy though. Are you really still that worried about your reputation, if word of your sweet tooth gets out?"

"Certainly not," he retorted, a little too quickly, a little too defensively. "I just don't want my precious, talkative tots tattling on me to Shifu. If he doesn't rake me over the coals for doing the very thing I won't let him do for his grandchildren, sure as anything he'll hit the ceiling when he sees how much I've been paying you. Which reminds me..."

"I know, I know. I've never seen you, don't even know you except on festival days." Le laughed good-naturedly. "Your dark secret is safe with me."

"It'd better be, with as much as I'm paying you," Tai Lung muttered. "And you won't tell Shifu, when he comes to shop...?"

"Tell him what?" The horse gave him a blank, inquisitive look. "Was there something he was supposed to know?"

"There's a good man." Sighing in relief, the spotted cat hurried out of the store with one last, amiable wave, rejoined Hu and Huo, and set a rapid-fire pace toward the edge of the village, the moon bridge, and the stairs.

* * *

"_Jiàofù! _"

This was actually shrieked in chorus, as both Hu and Huo leaped forward, rushing across the room to jump into Po's black-furred arms. Huo _tried_ to be dignified about it, of course, but in the end she was just as excited, and just as eager to burrow into the panda's white-furred belly, as her brother was. The Dragon Warrior, of course, couldn't keep from leaking a few happy tears as he looked down at the cubs with love brimming over in his shining green eyes, but Tai Lung had to admit his own were rather moist, too.

"Hey, there! How're my favorite niece and nephew?" Po ruffled Hu's ears and planted a kiss on Huo's cheek.

"We're your _only_ niece and nephew, Uncle Po!" the tiger boy retorted.

"Not for long, if Mei-Mei has her wish. You know she's been getting insistent that Crane take her out to Bao Gu," Jia observed brightly, popping Hu under the chin. Then, glancing at Tai Lung, she lowered her voice to a soft murmur. "And not if their father and mother lay off the herbs again..."

Swiftly Tigress stepped into the conversation. "Take it easy with your _jiàofù_," she advised gently, but with a touch of sternness. "He may be the Dragon Warrior, but he _is_ still recovering..."

"Aww, _c'mon_, Tigress!" Po whined. "You _still_ goin' on about that? I'm fine, Mantis said it'd grow back in a couple of weeks, so ya don't gotta worry about me. Everything's peachy, hunky-dory..." Yet even as he was babbling and giving his hasty assurances, the snow leopard couldn't help but notice how his paws kept straying up to the green cloth wrapped around the top of his head and tied at the back, as if to verify that it was still there and in place. As always, Tai Lung had to struggle very hard not to burst out laughing.

He really shouldn't, he knew it was no laughing matter—that it had in fact come about due to a rather serious battle. Just a few days ago, the panda had had to face a platoon of the emperor's soldiers who had decided there was more money in thievery and conquest than in serving the throne and had gone rogue. When Chen had given him the mission, Po had instantly gone into serious warrior mode, the combination of betraying the empire, harming the innocent, and taking up the same lifestyle as his parents making him utterly determined to bring the ex-soldiers down.

He'd tracked the bandits to the village they were raiding with Monkey's aid, taken a shortcut provided by Jia and snuck up on them also with her instruction, and then ambushed and trounced the rogues with all the precision, force, and speed of Crane, Tigress, and Mantis respectively. Even though the bandits had had weapons, he'd avoided, deflected, and even outright disarmed them with consummate ease—backflipping over polearms, ducking axe swings, blocking the flat sides of sword blades with upraised knees and forearms, making knives and tonfas fall from numb hands thanks to his judicious use of the Leopard Claw. There had even been archers with flaming arrows which he had evaded, once by doing the splits so that it whizzed by overhead.

It had all gone off without a hitch, until after making use of numerous storefront signs, flower pots, a broom, and an awning or two to bash, trip, and literally wrap up his opponents, all of the ex-soldiers had been left groaning on the cobblestones or else knocked out cold. (One of them, to hear Po tell it, had been mightily offended at the dust, dirt, and cobwebs the broom had left on his face. The panda's response? A well-placed Tiger Fist to his muzzle, followed by the witty reply, "An' now you've got a broken nose on your face.") But as he had stood there, smiling in grim vindication at a job well done...he'd begun to smell smoke. And wondered why his head was so hot...

Naturally, of course, coming back to the Valley of Peace with a big bald patch on his head thanks to that arrow he'd only _thought_ he'd evaded had led to plenty of ribbing and teasing. Especially from Tai Lung, who despite constant apologies had not been able to stop giggling and snickering each time he looked at his brother warrior. That, as well as to keep it safe and protected while his fur regrew, was why Po had invented his new fashion accessory. It worked, at least so far as preventing too many jokes at his expense and gales of laughter, although it did rather make him look like a pirate...

The snow leopard broke out of his reverie as he heard Tigress interrupt the panda's monologue—literally, by placing her paw over his mouth. "Panda! Enough. I was only teasing. I know I'm still a bit new to it, but..."

"That's putting it mildly," Jia murmured again. "I still can't believe it took you that long to lighten up, when _I_ saw how funny the world was _years_ ago. I know you're hardcore, but..." Tigress glared at her and she went quiet.

"Anyway, I only meant that my children can be...a little rambunctious," the leader of the Furious Five said after a few awkward moments, shooting the cubs a meaningful look. "And your head is still pretty tender, Po, so I don't want them aggravating it." She paused. "Besides, I'm sorry, but there's no way I can take you seriously in that."

Tai Lung snorted derisively, as he'd been under the impression that for a long time no one had ever taken Po seriously (and, sadly, rightfully so), least of all her. But before he could say anything, Jia spoke up again. "Oh, don't listen to her, baby bear. I think it makes you look dashing. Badass." She leaned close to fondle his ears, which stuck up through holes cut in the cloth for the purpose, and lowered her voice. "Sexy."

"Oh really?" The Dragon Warrior's voice dropped a notch or two, both in pitch and loudness. He leaned toward the ex-Wu Sister, one eyebrow raised suggestively, and smiled at her...a rather romantic and suave example of the breed, one that also had a certain sly insinuation to it which the snow leopard found distressingly familiar. "Well then, I know what we're gonna be doin' tonight..." He planted a firm kiss on Jia's muzzle.

"_Ewww_, gross!" Hu cried out from his arms where he was caught between them. "Uncle Po, did ya _have_ to? Now I'm gonna have to take a bath—and that _still_ might not wash all the cooties off!" Hurriedly he tried to wriggle free.

"Yes, we wouldn't want you to find anything good about girls," Huo snapped. She did, however, look distinctly uncomfortable too.

"I didn't mean it like that, sis!" the tiger whimpered. "Girls are just fine—just not like _that_..."

"_Not_ in front of the kids," Tigress hissed between her teeth as she tried to smile sweetly, even as she stepped in to disengage Hu and Huo from their _jiàofù—_who finally did look embarrassed as he handed the cubs over, then smiled sheepishly at his own wife.

As usual, Tai Lung had to agree with Tigress. He was glad that Po had matured and didn't get flustered anymore, that he was perfectly fine with public displays of affection and even open flirting, but did he have to do it in front of them? _And how do they keep so bloody energetic? Fine, I know that missions keep them both apart fairly often, but they act as if it's still their honeymoon! _

He was about to actually dare to question whether he and Tigress had ever been this bad, when he caught himself just in time—and groaned behind his paw. _Damn. Looks like I can still manage to be a bad influence after all...in more ways than one..._

As he wondered just how to tell Po there were ways in which he should not be imitating the master of the thousand scrolls, and how he could possibly undo the inadvertent lessons in seduction without regressing the panda back to his hopeless immaturity, Tigress spoke loudly again to quickly re-direct the cubs' attention. "Anyway, since you're so eager to wash up, why don't you both go and get ready for dinner?"

Despite how desperate he'd been to dispense with the 'cooties', like all children Hu proved contrary as ever—crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest and jutting his chin out resentfully. "Don't wanna."

"But I'm making your favorite—spicy garlic salmon, with fried mushrooms and tofu...in oyster sauce..." Tigress drew out the words carefully, in a faint singsong.

Hu paused for a long moment, his expression a bit agonized. "No."

Jia spoke up again. "If you do, I'll tell you some of my stories..." Her voice was even more teasing and singsong, and she was grinning openly.

"Oh yes!" Huo leaped down out of her mother's arms and rushed over to embrace the snow leopardess's leg; if not for her trousers, they would have blended together as one mass of spotted fur. "Tell us the one about how you won three wishes from that golden fish! Or how you tricked the emperor into thinking he was wearing invisible clothes!" She grabbed Jia's pants leg and started tugging her toward the door.

Now Hu was definitely wavering. "But...but I wanna watch you cook, Mama..."

Po smirked, crossed over to his wife, took her in his arms, and bent her back against the table. "Sure you can stay, but Aunt Jia and I are just gonna be kissin' _all_ night and tellin' each other how much we _love_ each other..." He made as if to kiss her again.

For a moment, the only sound was crickets chirping outside. Then: "I'm outta here. _C'mon_, sis!" And the tiger had disappeared down the hallway in a flash, so quickly that for a split second Tai Lung thought he'd actually left his stripes behind.

Peals of merry laughter filled the kitchen of Tai Lung and Tigress's little house, and then Jia grinned as she picked up Huo. "Don't worry, I'll make sure they're good and clean before they come back for dinner. Then I think Viper and I need to go to the spa, pick up a few things..."

Winking at Po, she turned and strolled down the hall in the same direction Hu had gone. As she went, the snow leopard cub's voice floated back to them: "And my brother and I can tell you _all_ about Mrs. Lin! You wouldn't believe..."

Tigress smiled fondly as she watched them go, gently shaking her head. "Someone seems very attached to our little ones. Unless I miss my guess, Po, her half-sister isn't the only one who wants to adopt..." She laughed softly as the panda lowered his eyes and shuffled his feet, then turned back to the countertop beside the oven where Tai Lung had left the groceries, so she could begin preparing dinner.

"She's right you know," the snow leopard said as he joined his wife, getting out the cutting board for chopping up the mushrooms. "And I sincerely hope you do, panda. You were made to be a father." He never missed a chance to tease Po if it came up, but he couldn't keep the sincerity out of his voice; the Dragon Warrior was wonderful with Hu and Huo, not to mention the youngest kung fu trainees at the Jade Palace, and it was only fair and right he get to have his own. The fact this would also bring further happiness to Jia was only the icing on the cake.

Po blushed, stammered a bit, and rubbed the back of his neck—but a shy smile, swiftly becoming one of heartwarming excitement, soon appeared on his face. "Yeah. Yeah, I think you're right, Tigress. I've been waitin', ya know—wanted t' be sure it was a good time. Had to be sure Dalang was ready t' take over for me at the shop, so Dad wouldn't be left in the lurch...learn all the scrolls...make sure there was peace in the empire, so I wouldn't have t' go harin' off an' put myself in danger all the time while I had little ones at home. But...I think things are safe enough now, every one and every thing's settled in th' way it's supposed t' be. So it's time."

"Good." Tigress chuckled as she began cleaning and preparing the fish. "Because I don't think Jia was going to wait much longer before bringing you home a surprise or two. And she's certainly got the instincts for motherhood. I don't know _how_ she or anyone can get our little darlings to behave." She shook her head, frowned as if suddenly remembering something, then turned to look at her husband. "What was that Huo was saying, though? I don't know any Mrs. Lin. Someone new in the village?"

The master of the Jade Palace froze briefly in the gathering twilight of the kitchen, his eyes fixed on the willow fronds outside the window but not truly seeing them. He already knew Tigress was the last person he should tell about Lin; granted, if she went down to the village she'd meet her soon enough, assuming the old dog stayed in the Valley, but he didn't want to precipitate that meeting any sooner than necessary.

And even if she had set her sights on Ning Guo now, he would rather not be at ground zero when the striped feline learned just how close Lin and Shifu had once been...and what sort of raunchy, loud-mouthed, disrespectful person the canine was. Well, unless Shifu was his beloved's target instead; _that_ would actually be entertaining. But if she found out he had known Lin, too, and how well...

Thinking fast, and also resolving to use whatever inducements, promises, and rewards necessary to convince his children not to reveal anything of Lin or what she and him had discussed, he latched onto what Tigress had previously said to keep her from pursuing her line of thought. "What are you talking about, love? Getting Hu and Huo to behave is like running the gauntlet in the kwoon. Difficult, requiring careful balancing and skill, but hardly impossible if you know what you're doing."

Very casually his wife raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? Now this I have to hear..." Even as she continued gutting and scaling the fish, she watched him from the corner of her eye, waiting for him to continue, clearly expecting him to give himself enough rope to hang himself by testifying to his true ignorance. Even Po, who had looked about to leave and go seek out Jia and the cubs, had paused to stare at him with incredulous skepticism.

_They don't believe me, eh? Well, we'll just see about that. Seems I'm not the only one needing lessons in humility. _Chuckling under his breath, he nodded and adopted a lofty tone as he started washing the broccoli he'd be making as a side dish. "Well now, let me see, it's quite simple, really. It didn't take me long to discover that the worst part about having children is the constant begging, the rivers of tears, and the endless tantrums when they don't get their way."

"Yes, I noticed that." The corner of Tigress's mouth twitched.

"Forbidding them doesn't do any good—they simply disobey to get that thrill of breaking the rules, and to get what they want. Grounding doesn't work—they resent you for it, and go right back to the same old tricks once it's lifted and they think you're not watching closely anymore. Spanking works, sometimes, but I really don't feel good about doing that to someone I love, someone I'm supposed to be taking care of." Despite his pride in the solution he'd devised, he couldn't keep the earnestness out of his voice; after the bad example Shifu had set, it was very important to him to be the best father he could be.

His wife nodded slowly, but still looked confused, and even a bit nettled. "So then what _does_ work?" She paused and chuckled. "Other than traumatizing them with the mysteries of adults."

Tai Lung chuckled too. "Actually, it's the same thing you and Jia were doing just now. By rewarding them."

At last Po spoke up from the doorway—sounding very uncomfortable and reluctant, probably because he deemed this a private conversation. "But...ain't that just spoilin' 'em? The same as Master Shifu did to you? With the Dragon Scroll, I mean." There was also a very worried tone in his voice, but the snow leopard didn't think it was all due to this mention of his past; after all, if Tigress was right, and Jia would soon make her wishes to adopt known, the Dragon Warrior would need to know about parenting. Not that Tai Lung expected him to need any coaching, not when he seemed a natural at this too.

"No," the master of the Jade Palace said firmly. "Spoiling them is when they receive something they haven't earned. They get what they want, whenever they want, because you can't bear to say no to them. This is a reward they get after they've proven themselves worthy of it. And it's something you give them to show you respect them—not as equals, but as people. Just because they're cubs doesn't mean they don't deserve consideration...or that their feelings can't be hurt."

In his mind's eye he could see another snow leopard cub—given whatever he wanted, from _The Art of War _to deadlier and more challenging obstacles in the training hall; made to run laps for being only a minute late for the morning gong or accidentally saying 'Baba' rather than 'Master'; utterly ignored when a certain red panda and dog were far too wrapped up in their love affair/endless feud to notice him; mocked in the village for being the only snow leopard, a cat no one wanted, an adopted son who would never be loved as much as a real one, no matter what Shifu said...

Tigress paused in the middle of pulling out the last of the salmon bones, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully; he wondered if she were thinking of their father's even worse treatment of her. "That's...a very good point. But how exactly do you do that?"

Finishing chopping the broccoli and placing it in a bowl, he moved on to the rice and peas. "You make them feel important. Specifically, when I went to the market today? I kept them too busy fetching the groceries for me to even think about running around the market, throwing a fit, or making demands. More than that, I showed them I trusted them by giving them an important job. I do it every time I take them anywhere—whether I'm getting herbs, picking up new clothes, or fetching construction supplies. I say the same thing every time: that I need their help, that they're so big and strong I know they can do it, and that if they do their job well, there'll be a treat in it for them.

"Huo always wants to be so grown-up, and Hu wants to be just like Baba." He smiled fondly. "They'd do anything to feel worthwhile. And they'd _also_ do anything to get their favorite treats. But this time they'd be getting it for good behavior. They'll learn to connect behaving with a reward...and before you know it, they'll be well-behaved on general principle. I've been doing it this way for months, and it certainly seems to be working. They never misbehave for _me_ when we go to the village." He couldn't keep the cocky tone out of his voice.

For several minutes the kitchen was silent, save for the sounds of himself and Tigress preparing the food, and Po shifting about so that his weight made the floor creak. Then the panda cleared his throat. "That's...that's real good advice, Tai."

"I rather thought so myself," the snow leopard boasted.

"Wish ya told _me_ about it." Surprisingly, Po sounded resentful, even offended—although he did admit after some of the stories he'd heard about the bear's babysitting experiences, he had a right to be.

"Oh, where's your sense of adventure?" he cried expansively. "I know you complained at first, but didn't you end up enjoying the beginner's classes? That's no worse than the twins. Besides, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

"Easy for you to say, when you don't teach those classes very much. What's your excuse again, your teaching style's 'too advanced'?" The panda snorted derisively.

"And you're the Dragon Warrior, it's _your_ duty to be weathering adversity and combating violence." _I'd like to know what else you'd call Hu when he gets riled up. And Huo's even worse! _

Po snorted even louder, though it sounded more like a laugh this time. "Ah-ha, _now_ I see how it works. Fame and glory? You're first in line for the scroll. Duty and hard work? Oh, I was _always_ meant t' be the Dragon Warrior, not you." Tai Lung laughed out loud, and his friend joined him—thankfully showing there were no hard feelings.

After a few moments, though, Po asked curiously, "So...why do you tell 'em about the reward every time, Tai?"

"Because I want that lesson to stay forever engraved in their minds. And because I'm a father, it's what we do." Now the snow leopard was remembering how Shifu would repeat the same lessons and maxims dozens of times, even if he already remembered them, something which had annoyed him no end but which he now realized was why he'd been so excellent at memorizing the thousand scrolls. From the look on Po's face, he'd bet the palace coffers that Ping had been the same way. "You'll know what I mean when you and Jia do finally decide to adopt."

Again, silence; then, as Tai Lung was mixing spices for the mustard soup, Po said accusingly, "I can't believe ya bribe your kids to behave."

"Bribe is such an ugly word, panda."

"But you offer 'em candy for behavin' well and helpin' ya with the groceries. That...well, it sounds like bribery t' me."

"It's called encouragement to behave, and a lesson in courtesy. Something for something," the snow leopard chided him. "And d'you remember what it was like as a child? I certainly do, this is the way they think. They get to see Baba is happy with them and proud of them when they behave well, so they learn to be that way without being asked."

When he glanced at Po he saw that despite the panda's arms crossed over his chest, he seemed to have accepted the logic of it. In fact he was beginning to crack a smile. "Well then I just gotta know one thing: ya ever gonna let Master Shifu know?"

"And lose my last bit of revenge against him? Hardly." Tai Lung grated the spices over the soup bowl, wiped his paws off on a dishcloth, and leaned back against the counter, his own arms crossed. "Twenty years, panda, twenty years."

"You're _still_ not over Chorh-Gom? Not like I expect ya to be or anythin'..."

"No, panda, I meant the eighteen years before that. Close enough." As Po shot him a hard look, he finally heaved a high sigh. "Fine, _yes_, I will tell him how to get the children to behave. Someday. Unless he figures it out for himself." Of course he wasn't in any particular hurry to do so, nor had he promised it would be any time soon. He looked warily at his brother warrior. "_You're_ not planning on telling him...are you?"

The Dragon Warrior chuckled a bit darkly. "Nah, I still owe him for that first day of training, an' all th' fat jokes." Suddenly his face went a bit gray as he stared past Tai Lung, and the snow leopard realized, belatedly, that not only had Tigress stayed utterly quiet ever since he'd revealed his patented parenting method, but that even the sound of her dinner preparations had stopped. Slowly he turned around.

Golden ruby eyes hard and blazing with enough fire to make even the bravest man quail, the striped feline stood with her back stiff and arched, her claws digging into the edge of the counter and the hilt of her knife. Just as slowly, she turned to stare back at him. "That was a very clever plan of yours, Tai Lung, I'm sure we can all be grateful for the wisdom you're showing as a father. But could you perhaps tell me...exactly..._when_ were you planning on informing _me_ of your little breakthrough?"

Cursing inwardly, the snow leopard cast about wildly and rapidly for an explanation—he couldn't very well tell her that, like Shifu and Po, part of it had been a rather calculated and long-delayed payback for that trip to the daycare, where he'd first met Yi and received bad karma from a red panda cub. "Er...it never crossed my mind?"

The look she leveled at him would have frozen the Gobi. "Right. It never crossed your mind." Suddenly he was very much regretting not talking about Lin after all; even her reaction to that would have to have been better than this.

He tried again. "I...I thought you already knew, love? I mean, you have been around children a damned sight more than I have. Not to mention _I'm_ the one who's slow on the uptake when it comes to matters of the heart."

For several heart-stopping moments he thought she'd bought it. Then, carefully and calmly, she spoke without turning her head. "Po, why don't you go check on Jia and the twins. I need to have a long..._long_ talk...with Tai Lung. Don't I, O Honored Husband?" These last, stilted words were purred from between gritted teeth, and while he was very grateful she'd left her knife jammed into the cutting board, the fact her eyes flashed with the same cold light as its blade as she stepped toward him made him...rather anxious.

While Po didn't move nearly as fast as Hu had, Tai Lung wasn't surprised that his parting words already came from the hallway—rather far along it, too. "Nice knowin' ya, buddy!"

As the Dragon Warrior prudently deserted him, the snow leopard swallowed hard. _Maybe if I feed her some of those chocolates, she'll take it out on me in the bedroom instead? _He'd much rather she clawed his back again thanks to aphrodisiacs than...somewhere else...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering, the Running Gag of people accusing Tai Lung of getting fat isn't just me continuing to torment him; it's a reference to Luna's "Present". The part with Tai Lung finding chocolate to be Orgasmically Delicious is not a direct reference, but was inspired somewhat by the movie _Chocolat_. For that matter, the whole bit where Tai purchasing candy was played out like getting smuggled drugs was at least partly inspired by a Swat Kats fanfic I read where Chance appeared to be buying illegal catnip (and instead it turned out to be the last Harry Potter book). Tai's memory of receiving _The Art of War_ and requesting deadlier challenges in the training hall is a reference to Luna's "Memoirs".
> 
> As a point of interest, yes I did research into candy. Not only are all the ingredients and types I mentioned real and in some cases could have been imported back then, but the process I described for making dragon's beard (essentially, Chinese cotton candy) is one of the many reasons people buy it—they love watching it made as much as eating it. Also, the bit when Huo called Mr. Le "master craftsman" while Hu had only called him "mister" means, FYI, that Hu would have been using the form of address _xian sheng_ instead.

**Author's Note:**

> Text copyrighted 2011. Originally posted on Fanfic Dot Net. Enjoy!


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